


Truth Returns

by planningconquest



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Archaeology, Emperor Piett, Other, Political Alliances, Slavery, Slaves, The Force is varied, The Jedi and Sith are fools, Vader is kidnapped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-09-14 16:56:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9194459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planningconquest/pseuds/planningconquest
Summary: Vader is confronted about the truth of his past and his future in his latest venture with Doctor Aphra. Conversations are had.





	1. Chapter 1

The Sith Temple was not so much of a temple as it was actually a cave that was sunk deep under a volcano. The entrance was beneath a boulder that had been disfigured with the etchings of lovers initials and the occasional genital. 

“Boss, this doesn’t look like the secret entrance to a Sith temple.” Aphra said. She fiddled with her blaster. 

“We have arrived.” Vader pronounced.

“We’re at a make out point or at least a second base point,” Aphra gestured to the filthy words across the boulder. Vader’s hand was still settled over the sketch of a rodian’s private region. “Give somebody ideas.” 

“The temple has awoken and it calls to me.” Inch by inch the boulder began to rise from the ground and, impossibly, crumple inward. Dust and pebbles began to rain down upon the well-worn patch of dirt. It was growing pile that Vader eventually kicked aside when he’d spent his ire on destroying the stone. “Come, bring your gear. It will be a long journey.”

“I hope I packed enough snacks.” Aphra muttered. Her words caught in her throat when Vader bent down to toss a pair of saddle bags. (Stolen from a buy on Jakku.) Over his shoulder. “Uh, boss.” 

“If you are weighed down by too much, Doctor, then the beacon may fall silent then we shall both be prey to whatever traps lay beneath this volcano.”

“Well,” Aphra glanced one more time at the bright afternoon sun before plunging into the sucking blackness of the cave. “I mean, we know there is a city beneath the volcano. When it erupted eight centuries ago it buried half of the plant in ash and lava. We come across a connection of cities and streets and possibly some evolved humans I’ll have to call up the academies.” 

“There is nothing alive here save for animals and us.” Vader retorted. 

“I sure hope so.” Aphra carefully lit her lantern and swung it back over her shoulder on its pole. The cheerful flame flickered off the obsidian walls and floors and contrasted sharply with the electrical headlamp she wore. 

The narrow cave sloped downward almost continuously for miles, carrying them on a gentle incline into the heart of the volcano. Bare, black cave walls with on the sound of Vader’s mechanical breathing, their collective footsteps turned the formerly exciting archeology trip bland. When Aphra nodded off enough to stumble against the Sith’s back, he stopped. Whirling around Vader grabbed her shoulder and pushed her into the ground. 

“Omph!” Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open when Vader settled onto the floor as well. “What’s up.”

“Turn off your headlamp.” Vader ordered, “It is a distracting.”

“Right….” With the growing sense of discomfort, Aphra clicked her electric light off. “What are we doing?”

“You have fallen asleep walking twice.” She shrugged. “Eat and rest and we will continue on.”

“I’m fine!” She said with forced humor. “Really!” 

“Eat, Aphra.” 

“Yes, boss. So, do you think that this cave temple can help you look for Skywalker? I mean, it seems like a long shot.” The portion of her supplies that was food (most of it) had a nice package of dried shaak meat and some well-preserved candied nuts. Her water canteen was still mostly full which helped washed down her…lunch. She checked her chrono. Opps, she’s skipped lunch, it was dinner time. 

“It is possible.” Vader folded his hands over his lap. “The beacon is unclear yet it resonates through the force.” 

“If you can sense it can’t the Emperor? Won’t he make his way here too?” The meat was a little spicy. Aphra sucked on her canines and began trying to wiggle a chunk of flesh stuck between her teeth out. “Won’t he want to know where you are?”

“That is not of your concern.” Since he’d settled cross-legged on the floor.

“You don’t know if the Emperor knows about the beacon.”

“He is a Sith Master. If he cannot sense a beacon this strong then he is unworthy.”

“Alright then.” She dug her back into the wall to scratch and itch and eventually sucked down the last of her food. “Let’s get going.” 

“Rest, Aphra. We have enough walking to do before we reach the beacon point and if you are unable to protect yourself then surely disaster awaits us.”

“I get it.” Aphra said, “You don’t want to have to make time to protect me if the person calling you here is unhappy.”

“Sith Temples are not known to be kind to any patrons who visit them. They often test the force users resolve, skill, fury, and ability. Even Jedi temples had their own traps, many padawans and masters and knights perished within their halls.”

“What is about the force that make these things happen?” Aphra wondered, glancing from side to side. “If all of the temples are booby trapped then what’s the point? Don’t you think that people would.”  
Vader, having apparently tired of her chatter, reached her direction and she slumped to the side; asleep. 

When she woke up six hours later, the black cape Vader usually wore was draped over her and her various gear was stacked nearly to the side. The Sith was sitting ten feet away apparently meditating. 

“Did you knock me out so you didn’t have to answer my questions?” Aphra wondered as she picked at the fraying edge of the cape. She didn’t really want to move because armorweave was warm and comfortable, even in Sith caves. 

“You speak inceesintly, Doctor.” Vader’s helmet turned only slightly. “The beacon has gotten stronger.”

“Stronger?” Aphra glumly pushed her impromptu blanket off and stretched out, yawning. “Like how?” 

“Before it was but a whisper and then it was a voice and now it is a shout, pulling me closer to whatever lays below.” 

“That’s how you know it’s a trap.” Aphra said. “It’s in Archology school 101. If the temple is letting you know it’s there then you’re headed straight for a trap, probable death.” 

“Then we spring that trap.” 

“I’m glad you can think like that since you have force powers.” 

“Enough, prepare yourself. We will be reaching the temple chambers by late morning.” Vader ordered and said nothing else as Aphra grabbed a quick bite to eat and loaded up her packs. Once she’d relit her lantern and flipped her headlamp on, the Sith finally stood. “Come,” he ordered and they moved down the rest of cave. 

There wasn’t much to do besides walking. None of the traps that Vader had anticipated had shown themselves. There was no maze of hallways, just the ever descending cave they were walking. Aphra was left to entertain herself with fantasies and daydreams of anything she could make real enough to distract from the total boredom of their endeavor. It was only when the cave began to widen and lengthen did she finally snap out of her daydreams. 

“Are we there yet?” 

“…..almost.” His voice seemed hushed despite the fact that it was never beneath a rumbling bass. 

Eighty feet later the cave opened into a gigantic cavern that arched hundreds and hundreds of meters in all direction. Natural sunlight filtered down from the lip. Built and carved from the cooled lava and the stone base was a town. From their vantage point, halfway up the wall, they could see the sprawling grid pattern that created the ornate image of a dragon. The streets formed the lines and houses and buildings the scales. Tiled roofs that had not been disturbed in centuries stills shone their colors dully but enough to see the intricate shading and color combinations built across the city. 

“My gods.” Aphra breathed. 

“Impressive.” 

“Did you know this was down here?” Her hand was already reaching for her holo-cam. “What, there must be a thousand houses and stuff. All it needs is people!” She leaned over the cliff’s edge and into the whistling wind that plucked at her clothes and her hair. Along the walls were more houses and stairs with the broken remains of ladders and wooden stairs. “What is this place?”

“A Sith temple.” Vader said and he gripped the back of her backpack to prevent her from falling off.

“This whole place is a temple? It can’t be. Well, it could be. And I think we came in the back entrance, there’s no way a place like this used this cave as the only way out. There’s not enough room or even enough height. Was this a human dwelling, maybe it could be twi’lek. When we get back to the surface we need to check the planetary records for this place. My gods, I know I joked about this but this is a huge find. Geez, I know at least six corellians who are going to cream their pants and.”

“We are on a mission,” Vader reminds her sharply, yanking her back from the edge and toward a set of previously unnoticed stairs that were carved directly into the wall. The ceiling above the steps were from the same material as the cave and slanted evenly with the almost too steep stairs. Each step was only about seven or eight inches wide and about thirty inches. Vader had to twist to the side and take each step carefully so as to avoid slipping and potentially falling off the stairs and into the abyss. 

So consumed with the glory and majesty of the long abandoned village that Aphra didn’t mind that they’d slowed down considerably. Her holocam was on and blinking, taking in as much of the architecture as it could manage. 

“You know, volcanos are great for crop fertilization. They’d be great land for planting food.”

“Indeed.”

“And there’s space on the mountain side, the whole planets population moved to the western hemisphere and went star side so like…This would probably be a great rebel hide out.” 

“Indeed.” 

“And look at these houses, they’re just empty. There aren’t any scoring marks for anything. Why were they abandoned? What made the people move out? Who lived here? We need to check out some of the buildings, these are fantastic. Who….”

“Aphra!” Vader turned his head sharply, one hand pressed against the wall and the other held out for balance. 

“Boss?”

“Silence yourself. This place is not to be trifled with.” 

“Right.” 

“Remain close.” He ordered.

“Right.” 

An hour later they had finally reached the cavern floor where inches of dust had been settled for centuries. It stirred and floated up and around as Vader jumped the last five steps. 

“Boss, this has to be the back entrance.” 

“I concur. Do not inhale, this is volcanic ash. It will smother you.”

“Volcano ash is heavy.” Aphra slipped her own breathing mask into place. “Why aren’t the buildings knocked over yet?” 

“The wind ceased twenty feet up the wall and the buildings are all above this point. Any ash that would have fallen on them has been swept away and deposited along the outer circuits of the city.” 

“That makes sense.” Her goggles were slipped over her eyes and the world slipped into differing shades of green and red. “How much further?”

“The beacon lies on the other end of the city.” Vader replied. “Your lantern.” 

“Uh….” She handed it over. The Sith hoisted the lantern into the air and began moving again. Aphra wondered if there was symbolism in this whole situation. Vader carrying a bright light in the ruins of a city…maybe Skywalker was involved? And if it meant anything then what did it mean because Aphra felt that this most definitely meant something, “The records you got this place from, what exactly did they say?” 

“That this place was a Sith temple; a nexus of the dark side and a tribute to evil.”

“Fancy words for a hole in the ground,” Aphra muttered.

 

This place was not a nexus of the Dark Side. Whoever had written the mission report about this temple had been wrong. Vader had been in places where Sith had slept that resonated more completely than a city supposedly built to honor them did. Whatever this place was it was not Sith. 

Still, the beacon called to him; urging him through the dust and down the empty streets. 

If it was not Sith and it was not Jedi…what was this place? What were these empty homes, for they had been homes once. Vader could feel the echoes of people and lives through time, past and future. An image of a child splashing in a tub of water through a sadly gaping window. A man carefully grinding something in a rock bowl just outside a sagging doorway. He nearly started to the side a whole group of ghostly rebel pilots in orange when running down a nearby alley. Their words were shouted whispers that were snatched up by the ash before he could speak. 

“If he is lost then we must find him.” Vader stopped long enough to catch sight of Captain Piett pacing alongside an invisible companion. 

“You’re right.” He glanced to the right. There was a young woman in desert wraps with a staff slung over her shoulder. A rebel pilot in orange and a handsome man in a deep brown tunic and jacket stood with her as a small round droid rolled at her feet. “This was the place.” He didn’t, he couldn’t move. The image stayed. “What do you think we’ll find?” 

“It’s supposed to be at testing ground for you.” The second man said. He moved like a Stormtrooper, his hand on his blaster. “I don’t like it.”

“At least this once shouldn’t kill you.” The droid beeped in agreement with the first man. 

“Maybe,” dark gray eyes turned to face Vader head on. She stared into his face mask for a solid moment before recognition stirred. In seconds the girl had slung her staff around enough to take a vicious swing at him. The men at her sides went for weapons. Vision or not Vader had been in too many battles to not duck away from the oncoming weapon. The second he did it vanished with a breathy sigh. 

“BOSS!” With a confused shake of his head the Sith stopped moving and stumbled into a concerned Aphra. “Boss, I’ve been trying to get your attention. You’ve been standing there nearly an hour. Are you alright? What happened?” 

“It was nothing.” He nearly tossed Aphra into a building as he shook her loose.

“Nothing?” Outraged, she stomped after him. He refused to answer her questions as he led her through the last few streets and onto a much larger throughway. This must have been the main entrance to the citadel he muses just before Aphra catches up to him. “Oh come on!”

“Silence!” The thundering in his ear did not lessen when Aphra’s voice was choked off. He turned back to the highway.

Here the stone and rock was smooth and it lead right up to the volcano walls and disappeared into a cavern drowned in darkness. The edge of the village was a few dozen yards behind him and remembering what the village had looked like from above he knew he was at the tip of the dragon’s halfway unfurled wing. 

He took another step forward. 

Something rumbles in the distance. A sound of stone scraping against iron and steel echoes in his ears along with the thundering as whatever causing it moves slowly through the cavern in front of him. 

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” Aphra murmurs to herself. Even without turning he knows she’s pulled her blaster out and holds it ready. 

Thundering roars that only he can hear vanish the very moment the sole inhabitant of the volcano makes its appearance. 

A dragon. Smokey gray scales interrupted only by the occasional scar cover its hide. Its four paws step both on boulder and ash with equal distain. A long neck supporting a head larger than most personal ships swings around to survey the cavern. Two wings are pressed into its sides, their folded presence more startling than he’d expected. Smaller than a kryat but still large enough that he knew there would be a fierce battle to destroy it to get to whatever it protects. 

As the head swung back around two amber eyes finally focused on the humans. Aphra shifted enough that it looked from Vader to her. 

“The Son of the Suns.” Vader gritted his teeth past the pain of its voice vibrating his bones both organic and metal. “Alive and here? A curiosity in this galaxy.” 

“What?” Aphra breathed her soft question as the dragon stalked closer to the humans. A long tail tipped with a heavy ball of spikes appeared, dragged along the dusty ground. All together it made the dragon over 100 feet long. 

“I am not the Son of the Suns.” Vader snared, “I am Darth Vader. Lord of the Sith.”

“Considering those of your order were destroyed five hundred years ago.” In a seemingly relaxed manner and completely bizarre turn of events, the dragon settled into a comfortable sitting position. Its wings flared a bit as it settled down. “I find it peculiar that you manage to be here at all.”

“The Sith.”

“I don’t think he’s talking about the Sith.” Aphra hissed. 

“Your companion is correct.” Stone beneath the dragon crackled and groaned. “The Sith is not to whom I am referring.”

“Then this is truly not a Sith temple?”

“Do not pretend, boy. You know that well enough the moment you stepped inside the cave.” The dragon snorted a puff of smoke and air. Vader did not moved as the enormous head swiveled around to stay just inches away from his face. “Even covered in the stench of the Jedi and Sith I can smell the desert in your bones, the sand in eyes, the bedrock in your soul.” As close as he was to the snapping, snarling teeth, Vader did not flinch. “The Son of the Suns has returned to this desolate galaxy.” 

“I am not.” 

“YOU ARE!” Dust rained from the ceiling, the volcano shook and Aphra shrieked as her eardrums ached. “FOOLISH BOY!” A paw snapped from beneath the wide torso to slap Vader across the empty highway road. “You dishonor your mother and father boy with the insistence of holding to those infantile orders.” 

“BOSS!” Recovering, Aphra sprinted toward the Sith only to scream as a heavy paw came down on her back and pinned her into the dust. If the dragon had wanted to kill her it probably could have with ease. Yet Aphra was only pinned, squirming in the volcanic ash. “Get off!” 

From where Vader sat in the dust, still stunned from the unexpected blow he could see Aphra’s bare outline. The rest of the dragon that still hadn’t moved and the enormous head arched above him. 

“You have forgotten who you are, young one. You have forgotten your home, your soul, even your name.” 

“I am Vader.” He snarled, stumbling upright and reaching for his saber. “I am.”

“A lost child!” A roar that nearly shorted out his audial input. In the distance Aphra screamed. With a delicate motion that should have been impossible given the beasts astonishing size; the dragon ensnarled his cloak on its teeth. His lightsaber slipped from his grip and thudded to the ground as he was swung into the air and dangled from the jaws of the beast. “No matter, I will remind you from whence you came.” 

Since the cloaked was secured around his neck it only took a moment to snap the delicate chain that held it in place. To no avail. The moment it broke and he made for the distant ground his captor moved fast enough to catch him. Vader found himself in the truly horrifying position of being half in and half out of a dragon’s mouth. He saw nothing except the wide expanse of leathery scales. 

:If you insist upon trantruming like a child: A deep voice rang in his head, soft and hard at the same time. It was comforting yet stern, almost fatherly. As if Vader had any context for that. :Then so be it: 

“RELEASE ME!” Vader roared. Aphra disappeared from view as the dragon turned about and began to head back into the cavern from which he had emerged. 

“BOSS! BOSS!” His field of vision was now comprised of dragon snout and darkness. Varying formations hung from the ceilings and protruded from the distant walls. He heard the deep, unnatural rumble of earth moving against the very laws of nature it had helped establish. As rock cracked against rock the last of the light from the cavern disappeared and his whole word was plunged into total night. Vader could no longer hear nor sense Aphra. 

:Your companion is a resourceful being.: The dragon assured him as Vader was carried further down the ginormous cavern. :Have no fear for her.: 

“I do not fear for her.” Vader squirmed just enough to realize that further movement would probably puncture his armor.

:Do not fear for yourself, either, Son of the Suns. You are home and none shall harm you here.: 

“Fear for yourself, beast.” Vader retorted and found himself snarling in pain as the teeth around his torso and arm dug deeper into his flesh. It had not punctured his armor or skin but the pressure was enough. 

:Enough of this: His head echoed with the thunderclap of the beasts reprimand. :I will not tolerate your petulant behavior. Our time is short and there is much to accomplish.: They emerged into an area where the ancient highway had apparently narrowed and then branched off. A left turn took them into another cavern, smaller than the one holding the city. Unlike the previous chamber this one looked lived in. A bright glowing stone was suspended from the ceiling by four columns of stone that were wrapped around it and each other. From one side poured a waterfall that tumbled down a steep incline of rocks and formed a deep pool. The far slope of the cavern was covered in a brilliant green moss that glowed beneath the stones light. In the a alcove beside the mossy cliff side was an indent of crushed stone and rock and ash. It was here the dragon moved to settle into, fitting its body into the stony contours and depositing a now confused Vader on the slopping cliff. Once Vader had stumbled upright he caught full view of a section of the floor moving upward and a section of the ceiling moving downward to meet in the center. A copy of the unnatural rumble he’d hear earlier echoed about the cavern as a new wall formed and stayed. 

From where he stood Vader could see the dragon in its entirety, the full monstrous size covered in gray and white scales. Scars dotted its neck and body and ran most predominantly around the amber eyes. 

“Will you continue to stare, young one?”

“Who are you?” Vader demanded. All of his years as a Jedi and as Sith had never given him even the inkling of an idea that this could happen. Dragons were beasts, animals to be hunted and destroyed. No matter what the faint protesting voice that sounded too much like Anakin Skywalker said. 

“I? I am too old to remember my first name. I have had many in the years. You may call me…Cugino.” Cugino lifted his head and stared down his long nose at Vader. “Little one, you do not remember your home.”

“I have no home.” Vader growled; the words like coals on the back of his throat. 

“Truly?” Cugino moved away, lowering his head to the floor. “You have been reluctant to listen, young one for someone who has heard a beacon that has not been followed in five centuries.”

“The records reported this as a Sith temple.” There weren’t foothold or handholds on the mossy incline. Walking was difficult due to the constant threat of slipping and then tumbling the rest of the way down. He had already been humiliated by the dragon enough today. “A nexus of the dark side.”

“You cannot sense the Darkness here, little one.” Cugino snorted a puff of smoke and sparks into the air far above Vader’s head. “You sense truth what has been, what is, and what will be.”

“Then why would this be named a Sith temple?” 

“A judicious editing of history, little Son, a liberal application of self-delusion and overall stupidity. It is not uncommon.”

“Do not call me ‘little one’.” He nearly slipped and took a moment to steady himself. 

“What should I call you?”

“Vader.”

“No!” Cugino tossed his head, growling deeply. “The lie that smothers your own soul is not your name. It is a chain, a slave sign.”

“I am not!” 

“Do not delude yourself here, Son. You can sense the truth of what I am saying. Allow yourself to know it and then become it.” 

Vader seethed quietly. His temper rising with each passing moment and he was unable to do anything to the dragon near him. Not only was it an oversized monster it also controlled the force. The ground had not moved on its own, under the control of Cugino and whatever peculiar force abilities he had. 

Vader settled onto the moss, crossing his ankles and placed his hands on his knees. “Why did you summon me here?”

“The beacon was for only you, Son of the Suns. You have acknowledged the truth of your own son. It is no time to acknowledge the truth of yourself and your own father.”

“I have no father.”

“You do.” 

“I do not.” 

“Very well.” Cugino snorted in irritation. “If you insist upon being obstinent there are other…ways…to ensure your attention.”

Vader eyed the supposedly relaxed dragon and nodded. 

“Once upon a time this volcano was a home to many.” The change of topic came after an hour or two of silence. Cugino settled his head onto a comfortable boulder eye level with Vader. “Thousands lived here, grew here, died here. Even more were born here in the time before the Jedi and the Sith.”

“The Jedi were an ancient order.”

“Ancient but not as old as this or I. Before the Jedi formed and gained significant power there were hundreds of Force philosophies. Some vastly different than their siblings and some so similar it was a wonder that people considered they were not the same. Among the stars, among the races and all the genders in the galaxy there was something for and from everyone. I made my home in this volcano, built it and carved it from the stone and rock.”

“Through the use of the Force.” 

“Indeed.” Cugino closed his eyes, huffing quietly. “So long ago. Hyperspace travel was in its infancy and I was a natural wanderer and left this world to seek out new ones, finding planets and more Force based ideologies. In my long absence people made their homes in mine. Human’s and twi’leks and another humanoid species long since extinct.”

“What do I care for your tale?”

“Because then came the war. Between the growing Jedi Order and the Sith. Their schism tore the galaxy apart; the infant government was helpless against these enraged force users. The people who had come to my home were refugees, fleeing a never ending war that was spreading and igniting as each planet was discovered. They believed in a balance between the Dark and Light that the Jedi and Sith could never comprehend. They wanted a place to live in balance and truth and have homes without war. I granted them the main chamber and busied myself with building more homes for those who came to me for safety.”

“You left then?” 

“At the will of the Force I left for a reunion with my sister. I found her bound and chained, her own refugees enslaved in the criminal empire that had grown in the war. She and her descendant roamed as hunted beasts in the desert and I returned to find my own people, my own children taken and destroyed. Enslaved and stolen in the night.”

It was not an uncommon tale in this galaxy. Vader had heard it plenty of times. But he had not heard tell of the Sith Wars spanning this long or this far. Every time his Jedi instructors had mention it it had only been in passing. It was told in a purely academic way and to here is personal was more than a little unnerving. 

“In their war they both sought to purge the Force of anything they considered impurities. There was the light and the dark and nothing else. To disagree, even for those not force sensitive, was death. Equally the Sith and the Jedi destroyed many cultures and civilizations long ago. My sister’s, third in size only to the Jedi and the Sith was chained and enslaved and then forgotten.” The deep words were tinged and lined with a soul deep sadness. “All those gone wait to go home and all home wait for those to return and then we can have our home.” An amber eye finally opened to spear Vader in place. “I can sense my sister’s children. I can smell them. I can see them when others cannot. I have not seen one in centuries.”

“I am not.” 

“You are, you have forgotten, young one, but I know my sisters children. I know them from the bones carved from bedrock to the sand and dust in their veins. Your eternal strain for freedom…I know them and I see them. You cannot, blinded as you are.” 

“I AM NOT BLIND!” 

“You are lost.” Cugino seemed to have lost the strength to speak further. His great voice was softer now, worn down. “Explore if you wish. I will sleep.” With this final proclamation Cugino settled his head out of Vader’s view and seeming fell asleep. 

 

Aphra could only watch in astonished horror as Vader had been carried from the abandoned city like a loth kit being carted around by its mother. It was equal part hilarious and deeply terrifying. Vader was supposed to be invincible, strong, nothing could hurt him. Yet, he had been carted off, a tantruming child with a tired parent. This was not how the trip was supposed to have turned out. This was nothing like how the trip was to turn out! 

She had to get help. She had to find someone who would kill that dragon and get Vader out of whatever hole it had stuck him in. If it hadn’t eaten him already. 

She had to get the Emperor. 

 

Vader spent four days in relative silence. The dragon continued to sleep. He climbed the small cliffs covered in moss, he wandered behind the waterfall and found a cache of kyber crystals nestled in a dark corner. With nothing to do and finding no way, Vader settled down in front of the pool of water and tried to avoid thinking. 

He did not want to consider the dragons words and what they meant or even how they could be connected to his mother and the quiet stories she used to whisper to him. He did not want to remember his mother; the pain was too much even in his miserable existence. Vader growled, shaking the thought from his head. His mother was long gone, dead at the hands of the tusken raiders. The only kind spot in the universe destroyed by the relentless tide of pain and humiliation, the galaxy took and took and sucked the life from everyone and gave nothing back. Now, more than ever, Vader despised both of his master’s teachings. He hated Obi Wan for the false hope his words had given him and Palpatine for the death of any hope he had ever carried. 

He hated himself for ever having any to begin with. A slave child did not carry hope and yet Anakin had. He’d carried tons of it, giving it out and tossing it around. He lost much as a jedi padawan and then through the years it had been siphoned and sucked away. His joy and love and anything that made him human chained and condemned by both masters. 

Something deep in his chest stirred. A flicker, a light. 

Luke. 

His son, his lost light. The beautiful child he and Padme had created. The infant that survived against all odds had emerged on the galactic scene with the strength of a combusting destroyer engine. People of all culture’s held him in high esteem, he was regarded as the return of the light, the return of hope. 

Vader ached at the thought of his son, running among the stars with the wild, undiminished care that Anakin Skywalker had once had. Equal parts envious and frustrated he reached through the bond toward the boy. 

Nothing. As every attempt to use the force so far since he’d entered the mountain was met with the same unmoving block. He could not so much as levitate a stone. 

Truth. Cugino had told him that his thoughts and people were centered around truth. Briefly he considered what that meant before throwing the thought out and settling for brooding. At some point Cugino had woken and moved to settled near Vader, his giant head dipping into the water for a long drink. When the beast had taken his fill and settled into a comfortable position near him, Vader finally spoke. 

“Have you come to admire your stolen property?”

“I have no property and I would not consider you stolen.” The dragons’ voice was weaker than it had been the day before. 

“Then what would you consider this mockery and humiliation? Holding me here as I if I were.”

“What? An unruly child that refuses to listen to the truth and see reason? A child desperate to cling to what it knows because giving up all is more frightening? A child that yearns for what it has always wanted and yet does little about it? Yes, consider this a time out from your stupidity and foolishness, young one.”

At these words Vader ought to have risen into a fury. He ought to have argued, disagreed, anything. He found he could not. The truth was before him in every word the dragon spoke, in every moment. It was inescapable. Instead of his usual violent denial of anything he did not wish to here there was only quiet acceptance. As out of character as it was, Vader was simply too tired to continue on this as he had. 

Every moment of infuriating palace intrigues, the mindless slaughters, the uninspired admirals and generals, and the utter distain and hatred of every sentient in the galaxy, it weight upon him as a great pain. He was tired. He was old. He was alone. 

“I sense the strife in you, young one. The conflict in your heart, your mind goes against your soul. You think of your son.”

“I do.” Vader confirmed, seeing little reason to deny it. 

“He is young.”

“Only twenty years but he is strong.”

“Like his father?” 

“Stronger.” Vader said quietly. 

“And you seek him out?”

“Everyday.”

“Why?”

“He is my child! He is my son, he belongs with me. He deserves the Empire, a place in power.! All of what I have…is his.” 

“And yet what you have is only by the grace of your master. I am familiar with the Sith dealings, any attempt to bring in your son, your heir would be met with rejection and disaster.” 

“Luke will be trained.”

“To what end, to be a Sith? To be a prop in the lofty palace walls and no longer see the galaxy as he did, will you forge him into something of your own liking instead of he was destined to be.”

“He was destined to be at my side!” 

“Was?”

“Is.”

“Would you submit him to the same pains that you yourself suffered?” In an oddly subdued manner, Vader shook his head. “Then what will you do?”

“It is the only way.”

“Is it?” Cugino leaned closer to Vader, resting just a portion of his head on his shoulder. “I know the way, Son of the Suns. You see the path before you yet you are blinded.”

Luke would never consent to being an Imperial Prince. He would hate every moment of his Father’s demands and words and he would never listen to him. His son knew the truth and he would always escape as he had so often in the past. 

“Why did you summon me here?”

“You are the Son of the Suns, my sister’s child. You are one of destiny and fate and you have the opportunity to avenge your people. To care for them, to rebuild their lives and allow them grow. Transplanted tress remember the dirt of their birth.”

“I remember Mom.” Vader said, his hand were fiddling and crossing and twitching. 

“You do not wish to remember her.”

“I failed her.”

“You have failed many. What difference does a single woman make?’ 

“She was my mother! She raised me and loved me and always cared. She was kind and the universe ripped her away from me.” If he had been capable of crying he would have. “It destroyed her.”

“Tell me of your mother?”

“Why? You have locked me here. I have listened to your insanity and.” 

“I have never had a mother.” Cugino said, “I was formed from the very heart of this planet eons ago by the will of the Force. “I wanted to know what they are like. I have seen many in my time but they are different with every family.” 

“We were slave on Tattoine, owned by a junk dealer named Watto.” He vividly remembered the image of Watto’s rapidly cooling body after he’d cut him down where he fluttered. “Before that it was Gardulla the Hutt. She was…my mother and she deserved far more than what the Force gave her.”

“Tell me.” The dragon prompted gently. 

“She was kind.”

 

Vader’s woman, Aphra, had been a surprise. He knew his apprentice had been working with someone but find the young woman, dressing smugglers clothes badgering his guards had been a shock. She continued to insist as dragon had eaten Lord Vader. In her audience with him she told him, in great detail of the Sith temple they had scouted out. Apparently it had not been as empty as previously thought because Vader had been eaten.

By a dragon Apra continued to point out as if she couldn’t quite believe it herself. Vader had been eaten by a dragon and it hadn’t even had a problem getting his armor down. The tale was halfway across the court by evening and by then it was too late to stop it. 

So for the first time in years Palpatine left the Imperial Center. Taking Lord Vader’s own flagship out to the planet that his apprentice had disappeared on. 

The whole planet seemed dead. A single spaceport and half of the planet abandoned. Even past the dullness of the rocky terrain Palpatine could sense his apprentice. Lord Vader was alive but only just. 

 

Vader paced the length of the pool, hands clasped behind his back. Every time the dragon moved to speak the Sith would wave him silent. 

“You are making this more difficult than it needs to be.” Cugino said firmly over the frustrated snarl that his respirator gave off. “I have spoken to many stubborn humans you have proven one of the most frustrating.”

“Are you surprised?” Vader demanded. 

“You are my sister’s child; there is little you could do to surprise me. Even losing your home is not shocking but I have little patience for your continued foolishness. Accept the truth as it is Anakin Skywalker and begin anew.”

“It is not so simple.”

“It is.” Vader whirled on the dragon, “If you were seeking a true solution to your problem you would find it. Not guided by the fears or the insecurities you harbor. See the problem with new eyes and then find your solution, little one.”

“I am not!” Vader sighed to himself and shook his head. There was little point in arguing with a dragon. He churned through political calculations, military strategies; anything to help him with his problem. Then he saw it. A solution so simple and so ridiculously easy he nearly discarded it. 

“You see it now?”

“I do.” Vader trembled, his body vibrating with his fear and anticipation. 

“You will complete your task?”

“As I promised.” 

“Then I see no reason to keep you here, any longer, my young one.” Vader hardly noticed when the walls retreated and the path was open. “You know where to find my sister.” 

“You are dying.” Vader said quietly. The dragon loomed over him and nodded a careful confirmation. 

“I am.”

“What would you do?”

“I will be free to see those I lost so long ago. I do not fear death, Son of the Suns, just as I do not fear the sunrise. My sister lives hunted and her own people chained I have waited only long enough to give her the chance of new life and hope.”

“As you wish.” He paused, unsure of what to say. How to speak to the dying beast the same as he was unsure of how to say goodbye, “I have a final question.”

“Yes?” The dragon followed him into the main highway, each of his steps bringing down extra dust from the ceiling and walls. 

“Who labelled this place a Sith temple?”

“That would be the Jedi known as Yoda. He lives, I know. He came once, also following my beacon. We spoke about many things and many people and I believed to have found someone that would aide my sister. When we discussed the nature of the force we disagreed and this, I believe, is the reason for the error. Finding I did not agree with his Jedi philosophies but unable to kill me he named me a Sith and left me alone.”

“You are no Sith.” 

“Nor are you, Son of the Suns, if you wish to reclaim your birthright then you know where you must go.”

“I do.” 

“Then I hope my sister does not kill you when you arrive.”

“My thanks.” Vader said as dryly as possible to make up for the genuine fear in his heart. With a shallow bow he turned and left the dragon alone. 

 

“Your Majesty.” Palpatine had taken full advantage of the few comforts the Executor offered. A plush chair in front of a spanning viewport in the officers lounge was just what he wanted. “A shuttle is making an approach. It is a local vessel but it is broadcasting Imperial Codes. It is Lord Vader.”

“Of course, Captain.” The sith master zoned in on his apprentice’s force signature. For the first time since he’d known the boy the Sith was calm, collected and utterly focused. Perhaps the boy had learned something on the planet. “Bring yourself and have the woman Aphra collected. We will greet him.” 

“Yes, your majesty.” Captain Piett bowed and exited the officer’s lounge and made for a communications panel. 

#3334\

Aprhra wasn’t sure what to expect when the Stormtroopers had come to collect her. She’d been locked away and interrogated a dozen times since she’d tried to get someone to help Vader. The emperor had ignored her and seemed to have taken delight in the entire situation. When she was shoved alongside a pinched faced Captain she finally found her voice. 

“You don’t know what what’s going on do you?” She asked, brazenly. A few dozen royal guards were here and the captain and no one else. 

“Lord Vader is making his triumphant return.” She whipped around, nearly out of the captain’s grip to see the Emperor making his arrival.

“No thanks to you.” She snapped and ignored when the man’s grip on her arm tightened. “What’s the big idea leaving him to face that thing alone? Are you supposed to help him too or is it one of the really sketchy relationships where one person does all the work and someone else benefits?”

“I can understand Lord Vader’s fascination with you.” Palpatine said, coming too close to Aphra and peering at her with ugly yellow eyes. “You remind me must of someone else he was once attached to.” 

“No thanks,” Aphra leaned away from the wizened old man and closer to the captain. She was delighted to feel a frim chest beneath his terrible uniform. “But I’m not Lady Vader 2.0. Just an archeologist that he’s going to kill as soon as he gets here.” She nodded to the ship that was now passing through the blue shield of the hanger bay. 

“I could guarantee your survival, Doctor.” The sweet smile he gave her made her feel violated. 

“I’m not sure I want to pay the price for that.” Aphra said, ignoring the shock that was now palpable from the man behind her. “But thanks for that empty offer.” The captain, the criminal and the Emperor waited as the ship docked before them and the ramp beneath it extended. Moments later the familiar hissing of Vader’s respirator.

“Ah, Lord Vader,” The Emperor’s sickly sweet smile vanished as his apprentice. “You have seen fit to return to uARHHHH!” Aphra squeaked and nearly jumped into the arms of the officers trying to restrain her as the Emperor’s head bounced against the duraseteel and rolled toward her feet. Vader, without breaking a stride, had pulled his lightsaber from a royal guard’s belt and had taken only a moment to cut down the Sith master. The red blade cast the Sith in a pale light as the headless body crumpled. 

“Captain Piett, release the doctor.” Peitt did as ordered and found himself gaping as Vader personally unlocked the woman’s cuffs. 

“Boss?” 

“Return to your previous mission, Aphra. I will contact you soon.”

“Boss.”

“Lord Vader!” The royal guards had fallen over too, falling with the emperor. “What…my lord.”

“Have my personal shuttle prepared for departure.” Vader stepped over the corpse, moving toward the other end of the hanger. “And have a notary draft my letter of abdication from the throne.” 

“My lord.” Faint but sternly holding onto his rising panic, Piett followed after the Sith. “LORD VADER!

#$#$

Kitster Banai couldn’t really move at the moment. His place in the dust along the wall had not changed in six hours. His cloak provided little protection from the midday suns and he was having difficulty keeping his panic under control. 

A sandstorm was brewing and headed this way and his master had seen fit to chain him outside until he was satisfied that his slave was properly punished. Kitster was already injured and bleeding. As isolated as he was he knew there was little chance of even his fellow slaves coming for him. 

“Kitster Banai.” The weather beaten and tired slave raised his eyes from his arms to stare at the imposing and enormous form of Darth Vader. 

“What?”

“I have come to keep my promise, brother.” Vader said and Kister wondered if the suns had finally gotten to him. His eyes further widened as Vader sank to one knee before him. “If you would allow me to.” It was not a motion of servitude but one of comradeship, of equality. 

“I don’t know you or whatever promise you’ve made.” How could the Imperial enforcer know him, know his name or even know where to find him? 

“When I was taken from Tattoine I promise you and my mother that I would return to free the slaves.” 

“I.”

“It was just after I won the Boonta Eve Classic.”

“The Classic is banned, even Jabba does not disagree.” 

“Indeed.” Kitster felt his weary mind add the pieces together until he was gaping. 

“Ani?” Vader did not deny it. “Anakin Skywalker?” The enormous helmet dipped in agreement. “I…what happened to you? Anakin!” Kitster’s one good hand reached across the distance between them and settled it on the angular, unnatural cheek. “Brother, what?”

“I have come to keep my promise.” His brother replied, one leather clad hand coming up to cover his. “I have finally freed myself.”

“Anakin, I don’t. I can’t. I’ve been sold so many times I don’t know.” With his other hand Vader produced a very familiar transmitter chip. His master used it to taunt him constantly and Kitster felt his breath freeze in his chest. With painful kindness Vader unhooked his trembling hand and pressed the chip into it. His scarred fingers closed around the chip and he nearly began to cry. “I can’t walk, Anakin. No right now and there’s a storm coming.”

“No matter.” Vader reached for him and Kitster, as old as he was, squeaked. “I have shelter waiting for us.” 

“What did they do to you, Anakin.” Kitster muttered; pressing closer to the unnaturally broad chest beneath him as the wind picked up. “What happened to my brother?” 

“Many things,” the Son of the Suns replied. “Many things.”


	2. Something Bigger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being only half-human means there are a dozen surprise when you look beyond it.

Vader carried his brother down the emptying streets of the slave quarters. Whoever bothered to watch them pass by was ignored and the favor was returned. Kitster coughed and turned his face away from the wind. The storm was picking up speed which might have worried he newly freed man if not for the fact he din't care. He lived free now and his death was no longer in the hands of anyone else.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe." Anakin replied, "Where you will recover."

"Is there a safe place on this planet." The man despaired, "There's nowhere to go." "There are places, brother." "Where?" Tired and feeling every single one of his years, Kitster leaned against his brother. "Where could we go?"

"You will see." Anakin carried him for a while until they had reached a section of housing that Kitster did not recognize. Here they were bigger and set in squares. The front of the houses were all outward and the backs and backyards formed a plaza. From the street there was a narrow arch and alley to walk down. Vader ducked under the arch and carried his old friend down the alley. It was so narrow that Kitster had to be adjusted to avoid scraping his head and feet against the mud-brick walls. From the darkness of the alley they emerged into a bright plaza where children of all species were carefully carrying plants into the different back doors. A few of them waved their direction and continued about their task.

"Vader!" The man turned enough to catch the old man's eye. "Do you need me to bring you food? Water? There is a storm coming and I want to make sure you and your friend are cared for. What do you need?"

"Water, fever reducing medicines and whatever broth you have to spare, elder." The enormous black helmet dipped in a regal show of thanks. The old man nodded back and scurried into his house with several pre-teens on his heels.

"Where are we?" "This square functions as many things." Vader told the other man as he lifted him up a set of stairs and into the cool and battened down interior of a dim living room. A door led to a refresher and a ladder up to a wooden lost that was obscured easily from Kitster's view when the former Sith knelt down and set him on the new mattress. "You don't need to do this," Kitster muttered, embarrassed. Having been so carefully handled by the now enormous Anakin was off-putting and frightening.

"You will be getting ill in a few hours. I will be here with you, my brother." Vader gently rearranged his limbs and then helped Kitster out of his cloak and tunic and then out of his boots. Vader had just pressed the blanket about his shoulders when the old man returned. A toddling Rodian on his heels who carried a basket of various dried planets. An older human girl whose bald head gleamed under the faint sunlight who hefted a bag of bottles of splashing brown liquid and a tall, lanky twi'lek male with an enormous container of water slung over his shoulder. "Vader, I have what you need. Do we need a surgeon?"

"Later, not yet. He is not well enough for a surgery. Go home, the storm will be too dangerous to travel in in just a few minutes. If you do not leave now then you will not be able to leave at all." Vader accepted the container and set it on a table. The bottles of broth he hung from a nail in the wall. When he took the basket from the Rodian toddler he gently patted her head and let it hang from his elbow. "My thanks, elder."

"Hmmm," the other human glared at Vader with a critical gaze. "Make sure he survives the storm. Make sure you survive the storm too, Vader. The living are not done with you." 

"Hmm."  Vader said nothing else as the rag tag family left the two men in peace. He went to make sure the door was shut properly 

"The living are not done with you?" Kitster watched from his place on the mattress. Anakin tensed visibly even under the armor. 

"He believes that I'm going to fall on my lightsaber before I have completed my promise."

"You wouldn't." Kitster closed his eyes to shut out the death head mask that now served as Anakin's face. "I know you wouldn't. You came for me."

"You have more faith than I." Eyelids fluttered when something cool and wet settled on his forehead. "I am unsure I will have the strength and fortitude to accomplish this task."

"I'll be with you." Kitster coughed and shrugged. "When I get better." The heavy prosthetic slipped under his shoulders and helped him lean up enough to take a sip of water. He knew better than to guzzle as much as he wanted to but it was still a bitter disappointment when the lip of the cup vanished. "Anakin." 

"Go to sleep." A heavy suggested was leaned into the words and he was out like a light. 

  When he did wake up in the following days it was always fitfully for short periods of time when Anakin would feed him hot broth, some tea and water. He could always hear the shrieking and screaming storm that rattled the windows. Dust and sand sometimes whirled around from an unseen draft that Anakin would plug up as soon as he found the source. He knew he was delirious whenever he thought he saw a blue man hovering around Anakin, talking incessantly at him. Anakin never seemed to appreciate his company and would ignore the bearded man as best he could. The one time he mentioned it Anakin growled.

"He is nothing, only a bitter fool who thought he could teach. Go to sleep, you are still sick." 

"All I've done is sleep." Sometimes he woke up to see Anakin working on a datapad. It was a sleek one, modern with a number of upgrades that made it extremely illegal. Probably something his brother had stolen from the Empire before he went AWOL. "I want to do something." 

"You are doing something." Anakin had told him, "You are recovering." 

"Anakin!"  It didn't matter what he wanted. When Anakin gave an order he expected it to be obeyed. Too many years with totally obedient troops had taught him this. "Good night, brother." 

"Fine." Kitster had only put up a token protest anyway and had faded back to dreams easily. 

#$#$#

"You do not need to be here." Vader growled at the hovering and incessant ghost of Obi Wan Kenobi. 

"I lived here longer than you did." Obi Wan pointed out.   
  


"You did not live here, Kenobi. You survive and became the bones of every foolish off-worlder who thought they could take refuge here." 

"Vader."

"Go away! Kenobi! Bother a being who will listen to your meaningless blustering." Vader angrily crushed the roots he needed until they were little more than powder. When they were finished he dropped the bowl of herbs into the waiting pot of boiling water. He ignored Obi Wan's fascinated staring and continued to brew the needed medicine. He did not give any thought of what he might look like. Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, brewing medicine in the cramped quarters of a mud house.  He was happy to ignore Kenobi, who did not like to be ignored. He did not care anymore for the man he had once trusted and loved. His influence was gone from his life and no longer mattered. He walked right through the blue figure several times before Obi Wan got the hint and tucked himself into a secluded corner of his kitchen to continue watching the Sith. "Are you afraid I will fall again?" Anakin eventually asked. 

"Darth."

"You are an idiot, Kenobi. so entrenched in your own stupidity you didn't bother to look beyond your own nose. You might have seen my downfall and prevented it.""

"You have no one to blame but yourself, Vader." 

"Debatable." 

"You have committed crimes even the Living Force would never forgive."

"I would never ask for forgiveness." Kenobi startled as the lie smacked him across his shoulders with a near painful blow. "Go now, Kenobi, before I toss your soul into the deepest depths of the Corellian hell."

"I am one with the Force, Vader. There is noth.AWRK!" Something green crackled around Vader's left fist when the Sith whirled about to seize Obi Wan by the throat. Past the throat he could not speak but his screaming echoed back into the void, awakening the rest of the Council. Something, something so sick and strange that Obi Wan nearly did not recognize the sensation that began to pull at him. Inch by inch his being was ripped violently from the very fabric of the force that had created him. Distantly, past the absolute white-got agony that engulfed his being, Obi Wan realized that this could not be accomplished unless the Force willed it. Whatever Vader was doing he was doing with the Living Force's blessing.  

   A pit opened beneath their forms. They were no longer in the cramped dusty kitchen Vader had claimed as his. They were standing in the heart of a star, Obi Wan dangling helplessly from the tentacle wrapped around his neck. Here, Vader was no longer the Sith in black armor.  He was a being larger than a hundred suns, bigger than a galaxy even with starlight white wings that stretched for lightyears in every direction. With a million eyes focused on him with hundreds of teeth bared his very direction Obi Wan shriveled up as small as he could manage.  He had forgotten that his padawan was the Chosen One, the offspring of the Force itself and the Force was bigger than than Obi Wan had ever thought.  Past the pain he was able to focus on the ringing words that tossed him about, pushed him down, rattled him and became the very blood in his veins.  "I am doing far more righteous work than I ever did with the Jedi. I am free!" Something in the distance  _moved._ Something Obi Wan did not want to recognize, something Obi Wan did not want to see. Something Obi Wan shrank from as much as he shrank of what seemed to be Anakin. Obi Wan clenched his eyes shut when the tentacle unwrapped and he was dropped. Not into the pit but onto an iron hard surface.  "I am tired," Vader said quietly, "I have my promise to my people to keep. Don't you understand. My promise to my people and my mother. To myself." He was trying to make Obi Wan to understand, demanding he understand. 

"Anakin." 

"Leave me alone, Obi Wan." The being murmured and Obi Wan violently gasped for air when he was folded back into the Force's grasp.  If it was possible for him to be sick after death Obi Wan would have vomited on the spot when he pulled back into coherency.

On Tatooine Anakin dropped to the group, wrapping his arms around himself. "What? Anakin, what happened? I hard something break and." Kitster hobbled into the room to find his brother curled around himself, breathing heavier than normal. 

"I don't know what I did." Anakin said, "I don't know what happened. I was angry and furious and I grabbed him and then." A leather gloved hand waved a bit. "I don't understand what happened. I was so...big...enormous with the very fabric of reality in my hands and I just...I don't understand." 

"Anakin." Kitster had no idea what was going on but sense his brother needed him. Carefully navigating past the shattered cup he knelt at Anakin's side and placed his hand on his shoulder. Anakin flinched but his not dislodge his grip. Kitster should not have been up and felt his vision swim when he did his best to hug his brother past the heavy armor and cloak. "You'll be alright, Anakin. Whatever happened you'll be Alright." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come. Keep tuned


	3. Uncertainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader needs affection and kindness and hope. Firmus Piett discovers that a number of people have set their eyes on him.

The sandstorm didn’t abate for three more days. Long enough for Kitster to regain his coherency and peace of mind. Long enough for Vader to finish whatever technological marvel he’d been assembling in the kitchen. 

“What is this?” Kitster picked up a modified datapad and waved it toward his brother. “What have you been working on?” 

“A scanner for the slave transmitters.” Kitster nearly fell over but steadied himself on the table and helped himself to one of the only chair in the house. “It is for you and me.” 

“Yours is still in?”

“It was never removed,” Vader said, “Too inconvenient for any of my masters to have their pet off his leash.” Kitster felt sick but nodded anyway.

“What are you planning, Anakin? I don’t think. Well, something must have happened to prompt you all the way back here.” 

“I had…” It wasn’t physically possible for Vader to hunch his shoulder but he tried anyway. His mask angled away from the tired man. “A vision of sorts. I was shown the truth I’d been willingly ignorant of.” 

“So?”

“So I tasked with fulfilling my promise. I followed my original destiny and came back.”

“What was this vision?”

“Who was it, more like.” Vader’s hands stilled and he finally turned around. Kitster waited patiently while the enormous Sith struggled to find a proper answer. “I met a dragon.” He finally said and Kitster put his hand to his head to took several deep breaths.

“What?”

“I went to an abandoned settlement inside a volcano. The original settlers had vanished centuries ago during one of the Force Purges. The original owner still lived there, however. A dragon named Cugino, patron to the village and the planet. He…separated me.” There was a particular edge of bitterness to how he said ‘separated’ that ignited a serious curiosity within Kitster. He said nothing. “From my companion and after a while we spoke. He made several observations to which I was eventually respective. He told me I was…the Sun of the Sons and that I was a child of his long-imprisoned sister.”

“His sister?”

“I can only assume he meant…I do not remember the stories any longer.” 

“You don’t remember the stories?” Kitster froze and came to the sudden and horrifying realization that his brother had been cut off from his home for so long. That his masters would do their best to erase any of the memories he’d had of his home and family. A measure of control over their slave. Any measure of control over his brother would have been needed and that included removing his home from his mind. It explained why they were speaking a mixture of basic and Huttese and why Anakin’s words bounced between formal and even more forma. 

“I don’t know where to start. I am supposed to help her but I don’t know how.” Anakin turned away again, leaving Kitster to stare at his enormous back.

“I can help you, you know.” Kitster carefully set his hand on Anakin’s shoulder and took a breath. “I’ll help you. I’ll teach you all you’ve forgotten and we can do this together.” 

“I am not…I’ve lost everything, Kitster. I lost my mother and my wife and my son. I can’t even remember the life I was born with. I’ve become an empty shell, a puppet who is only barely learning to walk alone.” 

“Ani!” 

Anakin didn’t move when Kitster grabbed his gently and pulled him into the best approximation of a hug he could manage given their size differences. “Anakin, I can help you. I will help you. You’ve helped me so much in the last week.”

“I don’t deserve it.” Something in the artificial bass cracked but the hulking Sith didn’t pull away. It was almost as if the man craved gentle affection and kindness. As if he was just as touch-starved as Kitster himself. As if the only time anyone had touched was to hurt him and even if he proclaimed he was undeserving Kitster could feel the desperation and longing. 

“What?” He forced the word out.

“Your mercy.” Anakin said, “your kindness. You.” 

“You have it.” His arms tightened around Anakin. “You have it, Anakin. Please don’t’ despair. We can do this. We can.”

“We must.” Anakin agreed and his hand snaked around to seize Kitster’s wrist. He squeezed gently. “We must.” 

 

#$#$#$

Firmus Piett took another swallow of stiff drink and slumped back in his chair with a sighed. Two weeks since Vader had summarily executed the Emperor. It had been two weeks the galaxy had frozen stiff and then begun ripping apart at the seams. The ambitious rebellion capitalized on Vader’s absence like maggots on a corpse. In-fighting between Grand Admirals, Grand Moffs, the ISB, the Navy, the Army and every institution under the Imperial banner had splintered the once might galactic government into shards. 

At the moment Grand Admiral Thrawn controlled the most sizable piece of the Empire. The Hutts had given up ever semblance of obedience to authority and sealed their borders. Corellia was in something like chaos and the Hapan system had returned cheerfully to its isolationist ways.   
What had happened to Darth Vader? Who could have spun enough lies and falsehoods to turn him from the Empire? What happened down on the little planet with that strange woman? 

Vader had been the only one many officers and troopers had respected. He had been the only one working for the greater good of the Empire. His efforts to calm the chaos of the universe had been visible. 

“You don’t look drunk enough.” Piett startled, sloshing drink onto his lap as he jerked upright. Dr. Aphra was grinning at him from across his room, lounging comfortably on his bed. She waggled a bottle of something expensive at him. “Want some?”  
Usually the occasion of finding a beautiful woman in their bed with a willing bottle of alcohol would have delighted anyone else. Firmus regarded the woman with trepidation. She had been a close agent to Darth Vader. She had been with him when the universe had tilted off its axis. Firmus thought Dr. Aphra was likely enough to have her way with him and then break his neck without a second thought. Though, the bottle did look inviting. 

“Why are you here?” He asked without moving from his seat and setting his drink onto the table with a definitive thump. 

“I haven’t left, there’s nowhere for me to go. My ships been impounded and only Vader could get it out. The galaxy’s in a whirlpool and I’m high and dry without my favorite Sith.” 

“Lord Vader’s favored agent.” 

“Favored is a strong word for what we had.” Aphra smirked, “Come on, Captain, take a load off. Drink with me.” 

“I don’t make a habit of drinking with vipers,” Firmus blushed at his admission but Aphra only laughed. “I don’t make a habit of drinking.” 

“I won’t hold that against you,” Aphra admitted, “I need to get my ship and my droids out of impound. They’re violent little bastards and I don’t want them unleashed on some unsuspecting Imperial.”

“What about Lord Vader?”

“What about him.” Aphra sat up and Firmus looked away, afraid of peeking on her nakedness. 

“He is Lord Vader, shouldn’t you be wanting to help him. Or trying to find him?”

Aphra laughed moved her feet off the bed enough to stand and set the bottle on the floor. “Vader can manage on his own for now. Whatever he’s planning will take time and I plan to rejoin him eventually.” 

“The Grand Admiral might not appreciate that.” 

“Have you thrown your lot in with the blue guy? Devoted your loyalty to him instead of Lord Vader? Everyone knows that if Vader made a claim for the throne he wouldn’t need the admirals and the captains to like him. There are enough troopers to do what he wants and dispose of his enemies. Did you make yourself an enemy?”

“This is assuming that Lord Vader wants to come back at all.” Piett said. 

“That’s true. I don’t know exactly what the dragon said to him but I know he must have said something.” 

“Dragon.” Firmus felt a bit depressed to feel how the drunken haze was sliding off him. He was sobering up. “What dragon?” 

“The one that hauled him like a little loth cat out of the ash in into some sort of secret chamber. The same one that nearly stomped my chest in. The dragon that threated Lord Vader like a fit-throwing brat.”

“I…oh dear.” Fimus felt the ship spin and closed his eyes.

“If he comes back from his crusade there needs to be something for him.” 

“Like what?” The captain demanded, “He cut the Emperor down in front of hundreds of troopers. Cut his head off and let the damn thing bounce. There is no way he’ll be allowed to come back.”

“If you think cutting his head off would stop the troopers from liking him you’re very wrong. I have a proposition for you.” 

“I won’t sleep with you.” Firmus said automatically, “And I am offended you would ask. I am not one of those lose officers who beds every woman in his general vicinity.” 

“Which is why I’m bringing the offer to you and no one else.” Aphra seemed amused by his immediate rebuttal. “Look at it this way, Pitty.”

“Don’t call me that.” He said faintly.

“Vader comes back he can’t come back to a broken husk of an Empire. He needs something to lead. He’s like that. Second, even if he doesn’t come back there’s an Empire he’d be proud of.”

“You are suggesting I instigate a coup? I am a captain! Not a politician.”

“You’ve survived Vader longer than any other Captain. You have his official stamp of approval. You take up his battle standard you and I both know who’ll come out on top.” 

“Thrawn’s going to crush me.” Came his faint reply as he reeled under the implications. “I cannot defeat him.” 

“Him, maybe not but you know just how many idiot people exist out there. You know that Isard can’t lead men or soldiers worth a damn. All of the Grand Moff and Admirals can be your tasting snack.”

“I can’t! The disorder! The chaos!” 

“Well.” An unfamiliar man forced his way into his room carrying a bloody jacket and grinning evilly. “Lookit, Aphra. Long time no see.”

“Jix!” The words were jovial and Piett was just sober enough to know they weren’t big fans of the other. “Nice to see you?”

“I guess you’re here for the same reason I am?” Jix, or whoever he was, let the bloody jacket fall onto his lap. “Here, Captain. Take a look.”

Piett obeyed and sucked in a deep breath as he recognized who had owned it. “Why have you brought me Admiral Ozzel’s jacket? Dipped in blood?” Firmus swayed in his seat only to be steadied by the enormous hand.

“Dipped, oh no. I had to take it off his corpse!” Jix said cheerfully. “He’s dead, by the way. Making you the new commander of the Executor.”

“I couldn’t possibly!”

“Listen, Admiral. You and I and this lady here know what sort of chaos the others’ll made of the galaxy. How many people’ll be exploited and killed in all the infighting. What people need is some one with the ability and the drive to take the position of authority. Even with Uncle Dee gone you’re basically the heir apparent to the throne, one of the only people who’d help him.”

“The actual heir would be his son,” Aphra hummed and picked up his half-empty glass of booze. “But he’s a rebel scum and not really a good fit for a rebel to take any sort of Imperial authority. So that leaves you and don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.” 

“You want me to be a puppet!”

“Not even a little.” Jix took the bloody jacket from him and hung it up from one of the only spare hooks in the room in a sick parody of politeness. “You’ve got a job and you’re afraid to take it up. At the moment you’re wallowing. Not that I’ll judge. I think all of us took a break after we heard he up and dusted from the Empire. Point is, you’ve got the same aims as Vader.” 

“You wouldn’t have lived this long if you didn’t.” Aphra said, “And that means that you get the job of cleaning up this mess and you’ve inherited us…” She waved to herself and Jix,” And other agents he’s got. We’ll do what we can. Jix’ll be your general and I’ll be your spymaster.” 

“You’re taking advantage of my drunkenness.” He realized with dismay that he really had inherited Lord Vader’s mess. 

“Yep!” 

“Alright.” He stumbled to his feet and grunted when he was deposited onto his own bed. 

“Sleep off the rest of your drink. We can start on your coup when I’ve taken care of the rest of the Core Loyalists still in the fleet.” Jix flicked the light off and said, “We’ll get you up in two hours.” Firmus Piett watched with some deepening sense of despair as Aphra took her own bottle and his.

“Can’t have your emperor be a drunk!” She cheered and vanished behind Jix. Leaving him in the darkness with the potential crushing despair.


	4. Shifting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitster faces the reality that his brother is someone he does not know. Piett wishes he had some sort of guide for adopting all of Vader's orphaned agents. Luke and Leia feel the call of the wild.

Darth Vader is a monster. He was the destroy of worlds, murder of thousands, the heir of Death and total ruination. Darth Vader is evil personified, built into a broken suit, mummified in black armor weave. 

Kitster knows that his brother became the very thing they despised. The very thing responsible for so many of the galaxies suffering. He knows that Darth Vader is cruelty breathing. He knows this. 

This is hard to consider when the man in black himself is sitting cross legged on the other side of the pallet with a length of fabric and the tools necessary for embroidery. As soon as the man had collapsed into a huddling mess in the kitchen Kitster had wrestled his brother into the other room. He was told nothing. Whatever had overcome the man, to monster in black Kitster was unaware. 

Anakin, Vader…whoever he was. Was stiching something into the fabric. Still dizzy and unsure, Kitster did not lean up to try and see what it was. 

“When I was with the Jedi.” The deep voice rumbled out. “They told me I was the Chosen One. Mom told me I had no father which I believed meant something far worse had happened to her.” The man lifted his work enough up to see the symbols that were just beginning to take form. “This is not the case. When I grabbed Kenobi something shifted.”

“What?”

“I did. I did something…impossible, beyond comprehension. I pulled him from the fabric of the Force itself and held him over hell.” None of this made sense to Kitster but he nodded. “Kenobi suffered a pain beyond life for a mere moment before I restored him but I had changed…changed. I do not understand how.” 

“What are you becoming?” 

“I do not know. If the Jedi are to be believed, then my father is possibly the force itself. That may lend some light to the situation but nothing more.” The storm was going to abate sometime in the middle of the night. What his brother planned to do after that he wasn’t sure. 

“That might be a mystery for later,” Kitster told him, “What you are. What you’ll become depends, I think, on what you do now. The master you had you destroyed with your rage.” 

“Which one?” 

“Both of them, I think.” The black helmet dipped in agreement. “And then you were angry with the one beyond use so you did something new. You…have to build yourself now. The answers one what sort of thing you are will come if you allow them. Seeking them out before you are fit to find the answers is not always a good idea.” 

“Sound advice, Kitster.” 

“Do you want to be called Anakin or…”

“I am not worthy of Anakin Skywalker.” The behemoth told him quietly, his hand never stopped moving. “I am not worthy of his name or his legacy. I’ve done too much too.” There was a moment of horrible silence and the man turned away from Kitster entirely. “How can you stand to look at me? How can you call me brother? How can you even bear to have me on this planet? You only know the barest hints of my crimes and yet you still.” 

Kitster stared at the slump of the enormous shoulders and blinked out his confusion. “I don’t know.” He confessed. “I don’t understand it either but you saved me. You carried out of a storm and into shelter. You’ve taken care of me, you are building a plan. You want to change and you want to help and I…you told me you wanted to free us. To free out people and you’re showing it and…I can understand that.”

“I am a beast.” 

“You are my brother and you’re trying and that has to mean something.” Kitster stumbled across the pallet, still unsteady on his legs and nearly fell across the other man. 

“You should not be moving much, Kister.” The deep voice vibrated through his bones this close. “You are still sick.” 

“Shut up.” Kitster snapped, sliding out of their first language and into Huttese for a moment. He needed to focus, to find clarity in his tired brain and stop his brother from falling on his own lightsaber. “Listen here, you have done many terrible, terrible things and…you can’t stop doing them…you have to.” Kitster fumbled for words he didn’t have, for patience and calm he didn’t understand. “Please, stop. Please, there is too much.” 

“To do for me to wallow.”

“I don’t know.” Kitster roared and slammed a hand against the metal of the armor. “I don’t know! I have only ever known how to be a slave! I don’t know anything else! I don’t know what to do here!” His frustration built up, compressing and condensing until he’s shouting even louder than before. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO! I CAN’T!” His words shake and his voice chokes off as emotions, long suppressed, rose to the surface. Kistster found himself shaking with rage, anger, hatred, desperation, despair. Anything he’s ever felt is back at full force. He shrieked a wordless yell and slammed his fist into his brothers armor again and again. He was lost in his confusion, his outrage, his fear. Everything gone and changed and standing on an edge over a pit of endless possibilities he had never been more afraid. There wasn’t much else he could say, or anything he could say. There was no way for him to articulate how he was feeling now or how to even understand it. The stresses of the last few days piling up on him until he was collapsed in his brother’s arms. He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen over enough for that to happen. Desperate, horrible sobs pulled their way out of him until he only could gasp breathlessly for air. He did not know that his brother was having a similar reaction. 

When the room went quiet, Kitster spent, he finally looked up at the blank eyes of the mask and then away. 

His hope was in a man that has never been free. His dreams are frightened scared things that had never known to be clearer than vague motions are now back as pristine images glimmering with distinct possibility. 

In the silence he memorized the feel of the armor, the ridges and lines, the fabric, the prosthetics beneath it, all of his brother he was pressed against. A grounding experience for him to survive till the next day. 

“Vihaan.” The deep bass shook and the universe shivered as the Sith was renamed. “I will be Vihaan.”

“New beginnings?”

“A little auspicious and ambitious perhaps but it seems the most fitting.” Kitster rubbed crusty tears away from his eyes and nodded.

“It fits, it’s what you need.” 

“Are you angry at me?”

“I think so.” He sighed, “I’m not sure. I don’t know what to feel. There is so much to do and we’re only two men. What can we accomplish?”

“In my experience two can accomplish more than even two thousand.” 

“Where will you start?”

“With us.”

3$#$#

Captain Piett stared determinedly out the viewport in the hopes of avoiding the stare of Lord Vader’s most recent aide. 

“I’ve been told by my compatriots that we’re supposed to put you on the throne?” She asked. She couldn’t have been that old, nineteen at the most. A stocky sort of woman with an easy-going attitude and a head for numbers and logistics. Piett remembered the reason she’d been stationed here was for irritating the academy professors with her grades and skill. They had hoped this posting would end with her dead. 

“Lord Vader would not have allowed you to gain enough information on the Fleet’s movements.”

“Lord Vader didn’t allow to do anything,” She interrupted him with a frown. “I just did it.”

“We need a good place to start.” Aphra said, leaning over the desk and grinning at the younger woman. She was not impressed. “You have the information on the interpolitics. We have the idea and the basics, we need a fine tuned ship, my imp.” 

“Your first bet is to not wait to face Thrawn.” Technically-still-a-cadet Noa glanced between Piett, Jix, and Aphra. “He needs to go first.” 

“Please explain.” Piett ordered. 

“He’s not popular or well-liked. Xenophobia aside he doesn’t lead from the front and he’s cryptic and frustrating to deal with. Humans are a very stupid race sometimes. Thrawn’ll lose his power base if you manage to seduce his Captain and then his men. Pull the rug out from under him and he’ll have nothing. Fear only does so much to people before they get mad and find a different road to take.” Noa pulled up a few images up on her computer. “Captain Palleon, brand new. Doesn’t have a loyalty to Thrawn yet. Go there, send the ‘Punisher’ to deal with Isard’s mess in the core. He’s trying to consolidate his power around Courascant.”

“I’ll deal with them.” Jix promised. Piett swallowed. 

“How,” He demanded. If Vader’ agents wanted to use him like a puppet he would at least know what they were doing. “Are you intending to take care of them?” 

“Kill them obviously. Isard is a bastard, the ISB can do so much better.”

“And entire power base? You plan to get rid of?”

“I’m not the only one doing it but yeah, that’s the plan. You’re carrying Uncle Dee’s authority, that means a lot in this galaxy.” Noa nodded in agreement, trying to push Jix’s dirty boots off her desk with the thin edge of her stylus. 

“What you ought to do, sir is just make a fleet wide statement and tell everyone that you’re going to be taking up Lord Vader’s authority and some such sentiment and that you’ll honor him while he does whatever and that.” She frowned. “He didn’t exactly like me for my speaking skills,” Noa admitted, “But give me an hour and I’ll have a decent speech written. Della in communications can highjack the transmissions from the HoloNet to make sure the galaxy hears us.”

“The proper heir apparent to the Empire!” Jix exclaimed and smacked his thighs, laughing. “Not the blond kid but you’ll do.” 

“Thank you.” Firmus said wryly and sat when the aide gestured for him to do so. 

“What exactly are your plans for the galaxy?” Noa asked, hands poised over the keyboard. 

“To create an Empire that Lord Vader would be proud to lead or at least know existed.” Piett said automatically. 

“If he comes back?” 

“Then I will give him control.”

“If he doesn’t?” 

“Then I will lead.” 

“We won’t go into specifics of the sort of galaxy you want to build. We’ll just remind people that the only person that’s actively been working for the Empire is Lord Vader and that.” She hummed and continued typing at impossible speed. Something beside her hummed and she smacked the accept button with her elbow. “Lord Vader’s office.” She chirped and Piett felt his eyebrows rise. 

“Cadet Noa, is Captain Piett anywhere to be found?” he recognized the voice of the secondary bridge captain. A man with a clever mind but a truly weak personality. 

“Yes, sir. What sort of message should I relay to him?”

“We’re sort of…waiting for orders.” The man dithered, “What about the Admiral’s body and funeral? Plus, what exactly are we going to do now?” 

“Thank you for your concerns, Secondary Captain Piml, I will relay them immediately. Thank you.” She picked her elbow up and continued typing. “Do you want to give Admiral Ozzel a funeral?” 

“He’ll need one.”

“He was murdered because he was in the way.” Aphra said, “We don’t want a martyr. He can give the speech at the funeral.”

“Good idea, kid, write a few nice things about Ozzel.” Firmus, despite feeling that he was being dragged around by his ears by a nexu, took a moment to enjoy the particularly understated glare directed at the man. 

Noa stared a few moments before she sighed deeply and reached into her desk to pull out a thick file of notes. She flipped through it and then snorted, disgusted. “I can give him two sentences, that’s about it. The rest goes to the absence of Lord Vader and then the new plans for the galaxy.” 

“Great!” Aphra waved her hands, “So, Emperor Piett.” His stomach swooped low and he held his hands to his head. “What do you think?”

“A good plan,” he said. He was no great politician but he did care about the Empire. He cared about his men and the people on the distant planets he’s never visited. He cared enough to let some renegade assassins and mechanics to bully him into trying and save a splintering Empire. 

“It is a statistical likely hood that the Rebel Alliance to Restore the Republic will not be stopped and will have to be…argued with?” She squinted at the speech and then at Piett. “They’ll have to be negotiated with. Half and half but given Corellian tendencies I’d say there is no math in the galaxy that says it’ll ever be united under one banner.”

“I don’t blame the Corellians.” Firmus said quietly and accepted that he might have to deal with Lord Vader’s orphaned agents the rest of his life. “Independence has been their draw for centuries.” 

“And Mandalore,” Noa said, “Good riddance to the Hapes System and their crappy industries but we need to keep good terms with Mandalore and Corellia if they go independent.”

“Indeed.” This wasn’t supposed to be how the future of the galaxy was planned. Meetings like this were supposed to take place in dark rooms with old men smoking and planning on divvying of the universe between them and planning their friend’s murders. This was not supposed to happen in a spacious, bland, too-bright ante-chamber to an abandoned office of a long-gone Sith Lord. His companions seemed to feel the awkwardness of the situation at least. Noa was hunched over her keyboard, Jix and Aphra pressed close the desk and Piett sitting stiffly in the chair that had to be this uncomfortable on purpose. “What about the Rebel Alliance?”

“Hmmm, I haven’t had the chance to calculate the Alliance variables.” Noa informed him.

“She’s good, isn’t she?” Jix said.

“I can see why you have managed to keep your post for so long.” Piett told her diplomatically. 

“Thank you, sir.” There was something calculated about her response. As if she was reading it off a script and infusing a dead voice with false enthusiasm. 

“Ouch.” Aphra whispered. “Okay, we can check with our agent on Thrawn’s ship.”

“Lord Vader had agents stationed on the Chrimea?” 

“Hmm, we should probably tell you about Uncle’s Dee’s intel network and stuff. Probably tell everyone you’re our new boss and stuff.” Jix grumbled, “Give me an hour and I’ll stick together an intel briefing.”

“When did the two of you decide to steal my shoes and give Lord Vader’s? Was this simply a spur of the moment idea when your brains were drenched in alcohol?” He demanded, irritated. “Is there anything you’ve prepared for?” 

“We…might not have.” Aphra did not have the grace to look ashamed, she only glared at him as if he had dared touch on a subject neither of them wanted to breach. “You’re what we’ve got.”

“We don’t know where he went.” Noa tapped his speech out sadly, her fingers slowing enough that he was able to identify some of the words on screen. “There aren’t enough variables for me to calculate.” Her voice trailed off and Jix only shrugged. 

“We know what he was wanting to build.” The former trooper told him, “We don’t have him but we’ve got you.” Firmus Piett thinks they have damned him. 

#$#$3

Luke Skywalker hadn’t had a good nights sleep since Vader went AWOL. The shaky video that someone had smuggled off that ship of Vader chopping the Emperor in two had spread through the Rebellion like wildfire. When Vader failed to take the throne, any authority or the Empire or really anything that wasn’t himself and his lightsaber; the rebellion took it as a green light to go ahead. 

With Imperial forces confused and whirling about in circles trying to come up with some Chain of Command Luke and his team were deployed. 

Again and again. Rouge Squadron went up to blast TIE’s out the skies and strafe the destroyers, to sucker punch as much and as fast as possible to get the bigger ships space to fight. The Emperor is dead. Vader is gone and the Rebel Alliance was chewing its way through the poorly defended Mid-Rim systems that no one’s ever paid attention to. Luke felt wrung out and tired and more than a little irritated. 

It felt like the council just wanted to grab up as much space as possible and were no longer bothering with caring about his team. “Wedge.” Blearily he felt along the cot beside him just enough to feel for his friends leg and then up to his back. “Wedge.”

Wedge Antilles, one hell of a pilot and an even better friend, slept on.

“Wedge!” Luke wasn’t sure how he was still awake as Tycho and Hobbie were out cold as well but he smacked his friend’s back again. “Wedge!” Wedge woke up with a groan and a whine.

“Kriffing hell, Commander. Let me sleep.” 

“I’m cold.” Luke said and plucked at the blanket. They’d lost two pilots today, friends both. These things were hard to process when you were overworked or half-asleep but Luke’s brain was going into overdrive. His limbs screamed for rest but his brain would not stop. Wedge, ever faithful Wedge, grumbled heartily as he forced his boneless body to move over. Luke climbed gratefully into his friend’s cot and added his blanket on top. 

Wedge’s cot was warmer than his and it had the added bonus of making sure that Luke was not alone with his thoughts.

“Thinking again?” Luke could feel his friend just on the edge of sleep. 

“Yeah.” Wedge’s arm draped over him the way it would the days following the Death Star when they were both alone and shell-shocked with no one to understand just what had happened. It was natural, comfortable, and Luke pressed his face into the grungy flight suit. “Cold too.”

“We’re on a cold planet.” The man breathed into his hair. “Cold, cold. No bed either. Cold, Luke.” Luke nodded. He felt clumsy fingers run through his hair in an attempt to comfort. They both burrowed as best they could under the blankets and shared heat and sorrow and space. 

They woke up to General Madine leaning over them with a frown. “Commander Skywalker.” He cleared his throat when Luke’s head emerged from the wrapping of blankets. Luke blinked wearily at him and nodded. The man had obviously been anticipating only finding Wedge in the cot. “I thought you might have gotten up early to practice.” 

“No.” He forced his tacky eyes open and shivered at the exposure of the freezing planet. “Where to next?”

“An intelligence briefing,” Madine said, “I couldn’t find you so I came to Antilles but…” 

“Here I am.” Luke mumbled and miserably pulled his aching body out from under the heavy blankets. “Force, why is it so cold here?” He checked his padd as he pulled a second coat on. He’d gotten six hours of sleep. “What’s going on? My men aren’t ready to fly for another two or three days.” 

“Not flying, just you.” Madine was polite enough to keep his voice low as Wedge slept on. “It’s an emergency meeting. A holo just came over the wire, an imps pulling on Vader’s power.” 

“Does anyone know where he went?” Any hatred Luke had for Vader was cooled by the freezing temperatures of Hoth and the fact that his brain can’t hardly function. “Or why he just…” He made a slicing motion.

“If they do they’re not telling.” Madine said. They reached the council room. Leia was standing to the right of Mothma in her usual Alderann white and braids, her eyes are bright and awake. The rest of the generals and pilots and captain summoned all look miserably tired. 

“Commander Skywalker,” Mothma said warmly but Luke thought her voice sounded as cold as the planet. “Thank you for joining us.” That meant they wanted him to be a Jedi, not a pilot or Rogue Leader. “A matter had come to our attention. In a broadcast last night by the current Captain of the Executor.” Rebels shifted around the room, “There is a new Imperial vying for power in the Core. A man by the name of Firmus Piett.” The holo table lit up and Luke leaned forward. The man was thing, wiry, and short. His eyes were tired and gray like the rest of him. There was something though, that Luke took pause at. 

The tilt of his head, the gleam in his eyes, the wide protective stance, the strength of his voice as he proclaimed to the galaxy, “Imperial citizens, in this time of strife and confusion there is the appeal of falling into chaos and clinging to the sense of normalcy. Power beyond you and your ability wars over your heads of your lives and your changed and there are few that do. In his past Lord Vader has always fought to defend the Empire, to build something great out of the sloth and complacency of the Old Republic. In his absence, I have taken his duty, I have accepted his responsibilities. There are hundreds and thousands of soldiers, of pilots, of citizens, that have known the unjust life of the Old Empire.” Luke’s eyebrows rose as did everyone else’s. “They have suffered from the mindless squabbling of the Grand Moffs and the Grand Admirals and the unfair treatment of anyone considered undesirable. Of those in Command only Lord Vader acknowledged these truths and made any attempt to change this. These are times of change and opportunity. To make the possibilities only imagined come to life.” Luke blinked rapidly as the speech continued to the short point that it didn’t directly say. 

Firmus Piett was intent on taking the reins of the Empire. 

“Twenty credits on this guy.” Someone from Blue Squadron said and Luke burrowed further into his coat. He didn’t know enough about politics to be informed on what was really going on. 

“I am concerned,” Mothma said calmly over the conversation, “of what sort of Captain could win Lord Vader’s approval so thoroughly and deeply enough to make a claim this large.”

No one said anything. Luke hoped no one would look to him. He was tired. He wanted to go back to the stiff cot and sleep. He wanted Wedge to keep the nightmares at bay. He wanted to find out what was bothering him so much. Luke itched to fly. He itched to fly and not be killing someone. Something under his skin was just clawing to get out. The conversation around him went for hours, he dozed. Half way in and out of dreams of endless sands and the thundering roar of the kryat dragon. If he focused just enough he could see someone moving between the sand dunes. 

“Luke.” He was jolted from his warm imaginings of anywhere else by the voice of Leia Organa.

“Leia.” He smiled and she sat beside him. “What are we planning on doing?”

“What they were already doing,” She snorted, disgusted, “Carving up the galaxy like a chunk of meat.”

“You think we should be doing something different?” Luke asked and relished in what he understood. He would be used as a sounding board, he didn’t mind. He had only been in the Alliance for a year and half. Leia was brilliant which awed him 

“Yes.” Her teeth snapped and she paced up and down the now empty council room. 

“What?” 

“I don’t know.” She snarled and her hand were working together to keep from grabbing something to break. Luke wondered how she managed to be a Princess for so long. There is fire in her blood, anger in her eyes, hate in her teeth. He stared at her and then blinked lethargically. 

“We should go somewhere.” He said, feeling the claws on his legs trying to move him out of the winter and into the sun. 

“What? I can’t abandon my duty.” Leia stared as Luke watched the Princess habit forcibly shut down whatever dragon sits on her heart. 

“We’re not abandoning it.” Luke said and he knew that she was suffering from land-jitters the same way he was. Something inexorable was pulling them off Hoth and out into the stars again. “Han has the Falcon fueled up, ready to go. Chewie wants off this rock. We can take some leave.”

“In the middle of all this?” Leia stared at him as if he’d lost his mind and Luke nodded. “Alright. Get your things. We meet at the Falcon in ten minutes.” Luke was grateful to Wedge, enough so that he tucked a note of his own into the man’s flight suit. Grateful enough that he stole him another blanket. Grateful for the man for keeping his nightmares back but he knew that something beyond him, the Force maybe, was calling him back to hyperspace.


	5. Planning stage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Firmus plans, Vihaan plots, Luke runs away. Han is suspicious at times.

Aphra's droids were cleared from impound just hours before the conglomerate of officers and Grand Moffs managed to make any serious decisions regarded the galaxy. Just an hour later the droids were slipped into the conference room and made short work of every being in there. Just watching the holo-recording made Piett ill. 

"What is this?" He gestured to the replaying holo and then at the unrepentent Aphra. 

"My job, getting rid of the competition." 

"This is not how one gets rid of competition." His voice was quiet but his eyes were hard. Noa was making quiet notes off to the side, her computer keys tapping softly in the background. He'd muted the screaming of the holo and was waiting for the agent to give him a reply. "This is mass-murder. This is....explain this. Now." His temper didn't seem to faze Aphra but she shrugged. 

"Look, they were going to end up dead one way or another. Your were going to kill them in a bid for power and resources or the Rebels were going to do the job. This way, they're gone and you don't have to waste troops or ships trying to kill them. Besides, they were traitors anyway. Dead like this is better than anything else. 

"Tell me, Doctor, did you consider just how this might make this...potential Emperor look? Did you consider that perhaps, people do not want to live any longer under the fear of being casually murdered for disagreement with the ruling power?" Aphra shrugged. Firmus covered his eyes with a hand. "Did you consider that this might be a distasteful way to manage this?"

"Legally, you have the authority to order their executions." Noa added, typing away."

"Excuse me?" 

"You have the authority to order their executions. As a high ranking officer."

"Without evidence?" Piett demanded and Noa nodded. 

"Common enough, legally you don't have to even present evidence to justify it." Piett stopped breathing for a moment and glowered at them both. 

"To deal with ones enemy like this is not only distasteful but also dishonorable. I have no intention of making the same mistakes as Palpatine." He paced furiously back to his desk and stared at an unconcerned Aphra. "Where are your droids now?"

"On my ship, with me." 

"Power them down for two weeks," Firmus ordered, "In the mean time you will investigate every single person in that room. You will present to me evidence, exactly why they all deserved capital punishment. Properly presented evidence, Agent Aphra. I will accept nothing less."

"What?" She finally looked up from her fingernails, gaping. "You can't be serious! I've got stuff to do." 

"I will not rule with terror and fear." Piett reminded her, "This is your next assignment." 

"What about Thrawn? I can handle him!" 

"I am dealing with him." Firmus let his finger hover obviously over the disconnect button. "Do not doctor the evidence, Aphra. You have two weeks." He pressed the button and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "Noa, what is the fallout from this?"

"No one is paying a lot of attention. Some ruling houses on planets suspected of getting bribe money from some of them are throwing a fit but people are just too busy with the war. The Rebel Alliance isn't paying attention yet but there is a high likely hood of this being brought up when you and them finally clash. All probability most people don't really care about them. They were not well liked." 

"Whether they were well liked or not it speaks poorly of the government for sanctioning it and the people for brushing it off simply because it was people they didn't like."

"Sir?"

"Both parties need to be held accountable." Piett said quietly, picking up a data chip. 

"They were abusers and embezzlers. People like that get whats coming to them. Sure we don't want it to happen again but I'm not going to cry over this. I'm going to celebrate tonight."

"Noa."

"It's personal, sir." Noa sighed. "Some of them were the reason I'm here in the first place. " Her fingertip stilled and the bland expression faltered. Firmus leaned forward.

"What would you have done instead of this?" 

"I had plans." Was all Noa said "You have two interview in the next hour and I need a few more assistants. I'm transferring them up from the logistics divisions and a few others. PLus, I'm assigning you an aide to stay with you at all times. He'll be here in the morning."

"I was under the impression that you were my aide, Cadet Noa." Piett swallowed when another stack of flimsi was added to his pile.

"No, sir. I've given myself a promotion." Her smile was too bland for his comfort. "I am now your Chief of Staff, also, I'm no longer a cadet. Here, your next appointment is with the Captains of the Black Fleet. Vader's chosen, all loyal to him and thus to you. They're waiting for you to prove your mettle. You need these men and women's loyalty. With Icehearts death you have an entire fleet outside of Naboo just ripe for the picking. They're going to be your first target." 

"Naboo is on the fringe of the mid-rim. Too far out of our control." 

"Yes, but here is the intel briefing you're going to be getting from Captain Oss that tells you that the ISB have blockaded the planet and are taking martial control. Since the headquarters in the royal palace and the garrison is stationed in Theed...it wasn't difficult. The planet was de-clawed after the emperor came into power. This doesn't change the fact that this place was a hot bed of Rebel activity for the last two decades." 

"Where is the Rebel Alliance?" Firmus wondered, looking over the flimsi, impressed with Noa's work. "In all this?"

"Mid-rim, scrambling for a foothold. Since the Death Stars destruction they've gained speed but they're reeling." 

"Everyone is reeling." Firmus said. "I'm still dizzy." 

"Yes, yes. I'll get you some medicine for the vertigo but you're still on soon. Once we unify as much of fleet as possible we head to the Kuat shipyards for your new flagship. 

"Flagship....." His voice trailed off as the holo desk lit up and the enormous display of the Super Star Destroyer lit up the room. "The Executor?"

"Ready to fly when you are." Noa said as Firmus absently reached up to stroke the insubstantial image. He sighed.

"This ship is ready to go. What about the crew?" 

"Standing by. They've been training to fly this lady for a year now." 

"What is the probability that Thrawn already knows about the Executor?"

"100 percent. He was there when Lord Vader and the Grand Admirals were discussing how best to use her. Jixton is already en-route to the Chrimea to speak to Captain Palleon." 

"Very well." Piett nodded. "I will need to speak to the quartermaster." 

"Sir?"

"If I am going to be Emperor then I'm going to need to look a little more the part, don't you think?"

"Yes, sir." Noa typed a few commands into her data-pad. "Anything else?" 

"No thank you, Noa." Firmus hustled back to his office. 

Noa watched the blinking screen for a moment. She began to rifle through the reports on her desk and picked up Aphra's. The woman hadn't been pleased to find out Noa had requested a report. She had been even less happy to find that Noa was demanding absolute detail and facts. Still, it got Noa what she wanted. The detailed report from the volcano. 

Whatever had motivated Vader to draw his weapon on the Emperor had happened in that Volcano. Linked, somehow, to a dragon, a lost civilization There had to be a reason the Sith was bumming around the hell-hole of the outer rim. And she was going to find out. 

"I'm in for a long night." She said, reaching for her caf and pulling the report open. 

34#$#$

"There is an Imperial ware house on the other side of the city." Vihaan said, settling next to Kitster with a sigh. The tan robe he'd thrown over his black armor made a stark and surprising contrast. "It holds the necessary records."

"What do you want with Imperial records?" Kitster asked, handing him a length of cloth and his needle. "How does that help?"

"I will draw attention here. You will need to go to a safe house. There is one in the safe house."

"But where are you going?"

"To the warehouse for the next few days. The Hutt goons will report what I am doing back to him." 

"The Imperials never did anything for us when they here."

"That does not mean a few did not do their jobs. Even if the evidence they've collected it useless on the planet...I have no need for it. Jabba dies by the end of this month, one way or the other. The warehouse holds several ships and transmitting equipment. The kind that can jam every signal on the planet." 

"I didn't realize Imperials could do that." Kitster handed him a length of thread. 

"They cannot. It will though, when I modify the equipment it will do so."

"A month?"

"You have a month to arm those able and willing to fight." Vihaan said. "That is all the time Jabba will give me. If I am on his territory then I will be dragged before him." 

"I don't think anyone could drag you anywhere." 

"You'd be surprised. "

"If I have only a month, then where do I get weapons." Kitster asked and then he sighed. "The Imperial warehouse."

"Yes, enough to arm a garrison. When the Jabba is dead and the transmitter activated it will be impossible for the slave chips to activate. Then it is a simple matter of ridding the planet of the scum."

"How are you planning on doing that?"

"I will train a few during the month how to use those weapons, they can go and train others." 

"One candle can light a thousand."

"Exactly. From there, we regain control of the spaceports and deal properly with any criminals who do not comply." 

"And from there?" 

"We will burn that Hutt Palace when we come to it." Vihaan promised, his dark hands easily covered Kitster's. "I will have other duties too. I will not be here often. Tomorrow, when you feel well. Head down to the slave quarters. Go to the Grandmother's home, speak to her. She will have information." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes. Grandmother's always know." Kitster nodded and winced when his bother passed him a small length of cord. "Here, they will understand what this means."

"How many of these did you make?" he turned the braided cord over in his hand. "These are not...easy."

"The message is clear." Vihaan told him. "I have had time during your fever." 

"When you're not detaching dead spirits from the fabric of reality and threatening to drop them from existence. " Kitster pointed out and he nodded. "When do you leave for the warehouse?"

"In a few minutes." Vihaan clambered to his feet and then handed an impressive number of braided cord over. "Take these and go when you are ready. At the moment there is one of Jabba's favored, for the moment, bounty hunters is watching outside. When I leave he will attempt to come up. He will not make it. Do not be alarmed by the sound of screaming you may hear."

"Brother, what are you doing? Screaming?"

"Screaming. It may be loud." 

"Ah?" Kitster watched his brother sling a simple mesh bag over his shoulder and disappear through the door. True to his brothers word, about fifteen minutes later some screaming was heard. He started violently, despite the forewarning he'd received, and stayed stiff until it tampered off with a gargled cry and then died off. When he ventured out in the street, his brother's messages clenched tightly in his hand, there was some blood on the street but no corpse. 

#$#$

Luke stared into the blue and white lines of hyperspace, his hands twitched again and again against the console until Han sighed from the pilots seat. 

"Something bothering you, kid?" 

"Not sure," he looked sheepishly at the older man, "kinda. I've got these....I'm just distracted right now." 

"What about? You and the Princess just up and dust from the Rebellion? Just leave? What did you do? Did you make someone mad?" 

"No, I just...I couldn't stay there any longer. On Hoth. Something.... Never mind, you'll just think I'm crazy."

"Go on kid, you got the star dust itch? I get the same feeling when I'm in one place too long." Luke settled back against the seat and sighed deeply.

"I don't think it's that, Han. Something...something is calling me. I don't know what it is or what it means but I just. I don't know what's wrong right now. I need to find something. I need to find someone. I don't know how to."

"Follow hyperspace." Han said quietly, sensing his friends distress. "Just follow the song. It'll take you where you're supposed to go." 

"How do you know?" Luke pulled his legs onto the chair and wrapped his arms around them. "How can you be sure?"

"Easy, I'll show you." Han slipped out of the pilots chair and let Luke take his seat. "Close your eyes, focus on one thing. One thing only. It can be the taste of your last meal, remembering a sensation, anything. Just focus on it." Luke did as he was told, taking the pilots chair and squeezing his eyes shut. He tried for a few minutes to think of something but Han's grip on his shoulder stopped him. "Don't try to grab for it, let it come to you."

But!"

"Shhh." Han leaned in close, his breath ghosting over Luke's ear. "Just listen." The knot in his chest loosened. Luke breathed easily for a moment and nodded. "Focus on it, listen and just go with it." Suddenly, Luke felt every sensation in his vicinity heightened. The smell of Han's shower gel was almost overwhelming. A thick, rich scent usually favored by Corellian smugglers. His own heartbeat and the thick beats of his friends. Cool metal under his hands and warm plastic beneath his fingertips as he pressed the commands into the console. Something enormous and heavy settled on his shoulders. Somehow the weight of a planet and the weight of feather. Luke bowed beneath the weight. Han's quiet whispering kept up. "Just listen, kid. Don't think. Let the stars talk to you. They'll tell their kids where they're supposed to go. Don't fight, don't stop. Listen, kid." 

"What's going on?" The spell was broken. Luke shot up and sucked in a deep breath. He felt like a drowning man breaking water and taking his first breath of air in hours. Whatever trance he'd been it was shattered. 

"Corellian magic." Han groused and he pushed LUke out of his seat. "Go on, what did you program in?"

"I don't know?" Luke stumbled to the side and caught himself on an overhead strap. His palms felt sweaty and his knees weak. "Leia, what does it say?" 

"I don't know this system."She pursed her lip and glowered at Han, "what were you doing?" 

"Luke said he needed help so I helped him." Han held up his hands. "I didn't do anything to him."

"Uh huh." She crossed her arms, "why don't I believe you?" 

"Because your distrustful, bitter, and scarred by life?" 

"Don't give me real answers, Solo. Give me what I want to hear."

"Because I'm a scum sucking smuggler." He rolled his eyes. 

"Exactly, Luke what is this?" 

"Well," Luke leaned from the console and back to his friends. Leia was frowning and Han was sulking. He paused himself, "Han doesn't have enough records on his ship for us to cross-reference anything but the point is in there. I think the ship could make it, no problem." 

"But where is it?" Leia wondered, taking the vacated seat. "And what did Han mean, he helped?"

"He helped but it reminded me a lot of Old Ben." He leaned back around to grin at Han. "Are you sure you aren't force sensitive?" 

"Don't even joke about that." Han waved a finger his direction. "It isn't funny." 

"All I'm saying is that we're knee deep in some force stuff and you're the only one who can listen to it. Look."

"Shut up, Junior." Han growled and Luke laughed.

"Well, where ever we end up I hope it helps. Everyone, prepare for the jump." Leia nodded at the assembled men and pulled the hyperspace lever back. The Falcon lurched into hyperpsace and into the unknown.

$$%$%

"Someone is coming for you." The voice was heavy, thick, raspy and belonged to a blue ghost that was hovering somewhere next to Ahsoka's shoulder. 

"How can you tell?" It was warm under here. She was comfortable. Sleep was calling. 

"I heard the call." Darth Revan told her. "Come, get up. You will have help soon." Ahsoka yawned and stretched. The ancient bedding she'd used to serve as her nest for the last few years bunch and moved over her body until it slid off. It revealed a taller, thicker force user. She blinked at the force ghost, groaning. "Come, you are wasting your time." 

"I was sleeping." Ahsoka told her, settling back onto the blanket and yawning expansively. "Go away."

"I have not awoken from my thousand year sleep to play nursemaid." Revan told her. "Now, get up." 

"No." She huddled back into her bed and dozed peacefully. A moment later something near her head rattled. "Do you want attention, Revan?"

"Shut up, togruta. Get up. You have work to do. Prepare for the coming of your new apprentices."

"I am not training anyone." Ahsoka said, finally sitting up. "What are you talking about?" 

"When you are retrieved, take my holocron with you." Revan said, pacing up and down the length of Ahsoka's room.

"I am not taking you." She told the long dead sith. 

"Why not?" 

"You had your holocron stuck in this temple for a reason." Ahsoka said, "I'm leaving you here like you wanted. I want to leave in peace." "Take me with you. This is not a negotiation." Revan told her. "I am leaving his temple once again. I will be free."


	6. More than One Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader has his. Fett wears his. Noa puts it on at night.

The imperial warehouse had previously been a Republic warehouse. It hadn’t changed in the twenty plus years since the Republics demise. It’s function hadn’t changed either. Sure it held some useless piles of junk, a lot of weapons, a good number of heavily outdated ships but it was also a place to store contraband. 

Out of respect of the deal made with the local governors and politicians the Imperial supplies were not bothered but the other sections of the warhouse were fair game. So it held contraband. A lot of contraband. 

Except on Tatooine slaves weren’t contraband. Beneath the shadow of a jedi-starfighter, stashed here for some unknown reason, was a ring of about fifteen slaves. All chained together, all silent, all miserable. Their guards were Zygerrians. 

“Are you sure we can’t take any of this stuff. It sure is shiny.” A guard poked at the starfighter with a grin. “Look at this, clone wars era starfighter. This would get us a fortune.”

“We don’t touch the stuff on Imperial inventory.” Another groused. He kicked at a whimpering toddler. “Shut your kid up, lady, before I do it for you.” Vihaan felt pain flare from his jaw as he clenched it and ducked back behind the wall to consider his next move. 

For a minute, he considered going out and killing the pirates as fast as he could but there was no guarantee he’d reach the one who controlled the transmitters in time. Vihaan glanced back around the corner and watched the slaves all huddle closer together. The guards were bored and tired and just looking for a reason to pick a fight. After a moment of consideration, the ex-sith slipped through the hallways until he’d reached the administrators office. 

There, he wondered just how to succeed in his plan before he began to program the lights and the speakers to do just as he wanted. 

3$#4

Zillar, a Zygarrian of low rank and consummate spice user, watched the lights in the opposite hallway flare. The light up and began to turn on and off in a wave of flares that lead anyone curious enough down the hallway. 

“Hey,” he puffed a ring of spice smoke into a twi’lek face. She shivered at the smell. “Did you see that?”

“Um?” Zillar looked at the door just in time to see the lights flare again. “See what?”

“The lights,” He staggered to his feet, trying to sort what was real and what was a hallucination. “They’re all…. funny.” 

“I…” she glanced between him and the other pirates who hadn’t seemed to notice the lights. “I didn’t see anything.” 

“Huh…” Zillar meandered toward the lights which flared down the distant hallway one last time before going dark.

“Where do you think, you’re going?” Demanded someone from behind him. 

“Eh…just gonna look at the lights…” Zillar grumbled, swaying back and forth as he kept his bloodshot eyes focused on the doorway. “They were all…bright and stuff.” 

“Zillar, there’s been no one here for years. Come back before you get stuck in a trash chute again.” 

“I’m gunna look!” He sang/whispered as he approached the doorway. A flare of cold air brushed by him and he shivered. Zillar stared into the dark hallway, “Hey! Lights!” 

“Someone go get that spiced idiot.” The boss grumbled but no one moved as the stumbling Zygarrian staggered into the hallway, still singing to himself. 

“Shiny lights! Shiny lights!” Another brush of cold wind left him whining but Zillar pushed on. “Why are you shining? Come here….” There was a rasping hiss in the distance and he paused. “Shhh, don’t breath.” Zillar giggled and slipped around the corner. “Boss!” he called, “The lights breath….hehehehe.” He moved down the hall, still smoking his spice stick and grinned when he came across a walking shadow. “Hey…you.” Zillar looked the shadow up and down. The rasping, hissing breathing did not abate. “You…you aren’t supposed to be here. This is…not a place for shadows. Even…even.” Zillar swayed and would have fallen back if not for an enormous arm reaching out and seizing his shirt front. “Hey…you’re strong.”

“You are spiced out of your mind.” The shadow observed and Zillar blinked harder. 

“You’ve got wings….and lotsa teeth.” Zillar agreed, “I’m allllllll spiced up! Hmmm.” He wiggled a bit and winked as best he could, not knowing he’d just blinked, “I’m a lota fun all spiced up too. Wanna.” 

“This is not enjoyable.” The shadow told him kindly before summarily reaching out with his other hand and striking him hard across the head. Hard enough to break his neck. Vihaan let the slaver slump to the floor, dead, and retreated into the hallways of the compound as the confused shouting of the slavers approached. 

#$#$#

The slavers that had left their cargo numbered three. Two men and a deeply scarred woman. When they found the body of their partner, they began to aim weapons about and shouting.

“Who’s there? Come out scum! We’ll gut you like a filthy cheap whore.” All three tensed as an indistinct muttering came from two doors down and the lights in the room flickered on and off. “Who is there!” 

There was silence and then the conversation, still indistinct, came even faster. The voices were urgent and angry, someone shouted and the lights flickered some more. 

“We should check it out.” The tallest man said, “somethings no right.” 

“No one’s been here since this place was built.” The second man added, “But, yeah.” He stepped down the hall and then glanced back at the fallen corpse of Zillar. The unnatural angle of his neck and look of complacent idiocy on his face. All of it made him shiver. “Can you come with me?”

“Uh, fine.” She snapped and they move stalked down the hall and then slammed open the door to find…nothing. 

The old consoles and databanks were alive and blinking. Any conversation they’d heard had had to be carried on by a ghost. Or being broad cast over the speaker in the corner. 

“What the?” A distant hissing rasp grabbed their attention and they whirled just in time to see a familiar man step through the door. “Oh, no.” Terror spiked in the room as a red blade hissed into existence.

“Unfortunately,” Darth Vader replied, “yes.” The red lightsaber was the last thing the two knew. The third slave sprinted down the hall and skidded to halt as Vader emerged. He managed to scream just long enough to get the attention of his cohorts when the lightsaber plunged into his heart. 

#$#4

Chaos reigned in the docking bay. Slavers were standing around nervously, checking weapons and the different vantage points that could be used to shoot them. The slaves were bunched into an even more confining group, cringing as their captors argued about what to do. As they argued the twi’lek woman that Zillar caught sight of a figure moving along the distant rafters. 

It was a man. Well, it looked like a man. He was all in black and dark clothes and he didn’t look like he belonged in the desert. Still, he waved for her silence. She ducked her head into her knees and shivered. She did not see a nearly invisible string being lowered with expert skill until it looped around the nearest slavers neck. She did hear the strangled gasping and gagging as the man began to choke. 

When she looked back up, no one was there and the slavers were running around in confusion. 

“We’ll have to flush him out.” Shouted the boss. “Get your blasters ready, grid to grid. We’re going to kill this bastard!” They chained the slaves to the starfighter and they sprinted as a group into the hallways. Milla looked back up and saw the man re-appear from the shadows and the hiss of a respirator echoed around the room. 

The man said nothing as he stalked up to the group snapped one end of the chains with an easy stomp of his foot. No one spoke as the stranger began to fiddle with the electronic equipment that was laying around. 

“This,” a gloved hand shoved a piece of technology into place in the midst of the databanks on the far wall. “Will keep the transmitters from activating if they attempt to rid themselves of you.” Milla swallowed and stood. 

“Who are you?” She demanded, anyone who went through the effort of killing slavers and emptying the hanger of them couldn’t be too dangerous.

“I am Vihaan,” the masked figure said, “I am here to help.” 

“What do you want?” The young mother asked, her eyes heavy. Milla stepped in front of her to separate the enormous man and the girl. 

“The freedom of the outer rim from slavery. The destruction of the Hutt syndicates and the eradication of the slave trade.” He waved at the doorways, “Having the transmitter temporarily disabled will not stop blaster bolts. Resume your seats and I will destroy these men in short order. Excuse me.” He gave a nod and pressed a panel in the wall. Part of it slid open he vanished into the secret hallway. 

Meanwhile, the slavers were following increasingly erratic footsteps. As they rounded around the corner, they followed at a sprint. The mystery runner always a few steps ahead, one corner ahead. The slavers were beginning to flag. 

From his position in the administrators room, Vihaan watched the slavers bundle around, following the recorded and broadcast noises from the overhead speakers until they were outside the office. With the Force he flicked off the light, ended the temporary program, and hid. 

Slavers barreled into the room, screaming and waving their weapons. Their promises of deadly retaliation would have frightened anyone else but only amused him. Once they were all in the room, searching over furniture and in closest, Vihaan waved the door shut. One, a younger and more miserable boy, watched the door shut itself and he swallowed. 

“Uh…I think they’re here.” 

“Of course, they are.” The oldest one snapped, kicking a chair over. His eyes went shiny with fear as the thrice-named man emerged from the shadow’s he’d hidden in. “He.” The boss recognized him, he was sure of it but none of them reached more than basic shock before he’d killed the remaining five slavers. 

Surrounded by cooling corpses, Vihaan considered his next move. After a moments consideration, he grabbed the boss and then another slaver and dragged them through the hallways. Once he’d reached the door leading into the outside, Vihann opened it and tossed the bodies into the street. He felt, rather than saw, the shocked reaction from Jabba’s spies. It took him twenty minutes to throw the rest of the slaving crew into the streets as dismissively as if he were dealing with a particularly incompetent Imperial office. 

With his message, thus sent, Vihaan stomped back to the hanger where the rest of the formers slaves were watching the doors with terror. 

“Your captors are dead.” He informed them. “But it is not safe to venture beyond this room until I’ve expanded the transmitter dampening powers to the whole building. There may still be things to trigger your chips outside the building.” 

“What?” Milla ventured, “Did you do?” 

“I killed them.” 

“And?” 

“This building was originally built to house a garrison of stormtroopers and protect those within. I plan to fortify this building and using it as a base of operations while I go about destroying Jabba that Hutts control on Tattoine.” Shocked silence met him. “I will be working to fit it into a proper place to house refugees.”

“Well,” an older twi’lek woman stood from the back. “I can operate on people. I was training to be surgeon when I was kidnapped.” 

“I have an operating scanner.” Vihaan replied, “And there is a functioning operating room in the back quadrant of the warehouse. Will you help?”

“If it means that we’re going to be feeding that fat blob to his own sarlacc pit then yes.” She grinned toothily. “What do you need help with?”

The group spent the rest of the day organizing the warehouse, making it properly livable. Vihaan upgraded the security, expanded the transmitter dampening field, repaired the refreshers and sonics, the kitchen materials, unsealed the doors leading into the food storage. When the suns finally went down the group he’d rescued had made a hesitant home in one of the rooms closest to the kitchen. 

He hadn’t spoken much to them, knowing they imagined him to be a slaver or worse. He fixed what he needed to fix and repaired ruined weapons. When he left for the evening he said nothing. Finding the silence easier but knowing the confusion he’d left behind for the night. 

His brother was brewing more tea when he returned to the hovel. 

“Ana…Vihaan. How did it go?” 

He shrugged of his cloak and settled onto the floor next to Kitster. “It was infested with slavers. I have dealt with them as well as sent Jabba a message. They will be safe for the evening but I must head out in the morning.” 

“What do you want me to do?” 

“Go to the quarters. You know the network better than I do. I am sure there are people who need to be moved now. The warehouse is ready for more. We have someone to remove transmitters.” It will be a new safe-house for those being freed and those willing to fight. Find those who will gladly wield a blaster or knife. The armory was well-stocked.” 

“This seems to be a good place to start.” Kitster said, watching his brother set about working on his datapad. “Where is Jabba in all of this?” 

“Confused.”

#$#$#$

Jabba the Hutt was confused. He watched the holo of some of his lower ranking slavers getting thrown into the streets and then a holo to showed Darth Vader emerging from a hovel not far from the slave quarters. 

He’d known, of course, that Vader had committed the Empire to chaos before promptly vanishing. Only to reappear on Tattoine. Over eight centuries old and Jabba had never seen anything like it. He would have thought Vader would be the absolute last person to kill the Emperor. 

Which brought up the question, what was he doing here? What was he doing on Jabba’s planet? Why would he killing Jabba’s slavers and slaves? Why was he sleeping and presumably living in a hovel? 

“Master?” He glanced down at Bib Fortuna and snorted. 

“Leave the man be.” Jabba chuckled. Taking a drag of his pipe, he blew the ring at the pasty twi’leks face. “He is making this day interesting. What can we do here? He has no army. He has no followers. If he has come seeking refuge from the Empire, I will grant it. After all, what could he do here?”

#$#$#$

Piett had been the Emperor for two weeks before someone tried to assassinate him. He’d been catching the few bits of sleep he could in between commanding fleet movements and trying to calm the panicking public. He hadn’t even made it out of his office, instead slumped over the desk and snoring ungraciously onto a stack of datafiles. 

He woke up to a scuffle and a fight. Something tickled his head then something shattered. Firmus leapt to his feet, staggered to the side, and tripped over the corpse of his would-be murderer. 

“What the?” 

“Close call.” Boba Fett, in every inch of his Mandalorian glory, stood on the other side of his desk with a dagger in one hand that dripped red blood onto the carpet of his office. “Should really get that security looked at.”

“I?” Piett didn’t have enough respect for bounty hunters to fully keep the sneer off his face as he surveyed the corpse at his feet. It was an officer, middle-aged, paunchy, probably with a sub-par service record. “Hmm,” he straightened, “Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Fett. What brings you here?” 

“Noa, Aphra, Jix.” Fett graciously ignored the Emperor settled his close into place and rub the tiredness from his eyes. “I got the call to action.” 

“You’ve only worked for Lord Vader on a commission basis.” 

“Yeah, mostly. Want to see if you’ll keep up with it?” 

“You’ll have to excuse me then, Mr. Fett.” Piettt settled back into his chair and watched the man carefully. “I do not have the same vast fortune as Lord Vader.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m still getting paid.” Fett tilted his helmet down at him. “Heard you were taking on all his straggling agents.” 

“Now, Mr. Fett.” He held up and hand and was surprised when the man went silent. “I…will consider using your services.”

“What do you need me to do?” 

“Excuse me?” He asked politely and found himself frowning even deeper as the man took a seat freely. He removed his iconic helmet to reveal and very familiar face. A clone. Tongue tied he only listened as Fett’s unfiltered voice continued. 

“Noa called me in. She’s calling in all of us. Ones you need. I’m a professional bounty hunter and assassin.”

“Noa,” He had the presence of mind to not spit out her name in frustration but still felt himself groping for the comm unit to bring his self-appointed chief of staff to his office. “Really?”

“Excuse me, please wait in the other room.” Fett shrugged and left at his request and the second the man was gone, snapped his comm on. 

“Sire?” Noa’s voice was sleepy but waking up. He could nearly imagine her sitting up in her cot with one hand on the comm unit and the other on the chrono. “What?”

“I have Boba Fett in my office,” he said as calmly as he was able, “Having saved me from an assassin. He tells me that you have summoned him here.” 

There was a pause, “Yes, sire.” 

“Please come speak with us, if you please. Mr. Fett is offering his services.” 

“I’ll be right up. In my desk, bottom left drawer. Mandalorian ale and a shot glass. If you offer it he’ll be more amendable to our proposal.” 

“And what exactly is our proposal?” 

“I’ll be right up.” Noa promised as cut the connection. Shaking his head, the newly branded Emperor did as his chief of staff asked. When Fett was re-seated in front of him, he held up the thin gray bottle. 

“You care for some? I am told this is an excellent vintage.”

Boba Fett held out a hand wordlessly and took the bottle. Uncorking it, he sniffed and drew back in surprise. “This is a good,” He snatched up the shot glass. “Who are we waiting for?” 

“Noa.” Firmus said, feeling too far out of the loop for his comfort. The bounty hunter sipped his drink and ignored the Emperor. 

“I could find him, you know.” Fett said suddenly and the thinner man started. “I could find him, easy. If you want.”  
Piett paused, torn between his Imperial ingrained instincts and the respect he had for Lord Vader. As he opened his mouth to speak again, he heard Noa clatter into the other room and slap the door controls. He blinked at the sight.

Noa was wearing her bathrobe, a pair of bright pink slippers decorated with loth-cat ears, her hair was in cheerful yellow curlers and a mask of green slime was slathered over his face. 

“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Boba Fett.” 

“You didn’t tell the boss you’ve been going behind him.” 

“I haven’t.” Noa ignored Piett’s minor huff of irritation to take her usual seat across his desk. If she noticed the cooling body she said nothing. “You weren’t supposed to get here for another two days.” 

“I’m here now.”

“We noticed.” Noa turned on her datapad and handed it over to the bounty hunter. “This is a list of bounties that will take into the locations of known rebel cells and Palpatine sympathizers. These you retrieve and return them to whoever set the bounty. “

“What’s the point?” Fett asked. 

“Information, while you’re there, get whatever gossip and information you can come up with. Anything will be helpful.” 

 

“Hmm, heard about that little mess with Aphra. Congrats on getting rid of Iceheart, boss.” 

“Thank you.” Piett replied faintly. 

“Better get Lord Vader’s protection detail on him.” 

“We’re working on it. Bast Castle doesn’t want to help. They want the boss back.” 

“Phft, fine.” 

“I’m supposed to have a meeting in…two hours.” Piett told them both firmly, “If you please, wrap this up.” 

“Of course, here,” from the pocket of her bathrobe she handed over a datachip. “For your payment and expenses.” Fett whistled when he saw the amount. 

“You’ve got me for another seven years.” Piett nearly fainted. He didn’t know how much was on the chip but from Fett’s admiring tone, it had to be a lot. “You’ll get my first report in a few days.”

“Thank you.” Noa said calmly as Firmus tried to push out the idea of just how much money it would take to keep someone like Boba Fett on the payroll. “Don’t forget to send your coronation present.” 

“Right,” Boba looked down at her for a moment before shrugging and setting his helmet on his head. “See you later, Majesty.”

“Now I feel like he’s insulting me.” Piett glanced down at the body at his feet. “Noa, please call a few troopers to removef the body, if you please.”

“Of course, I’ll get right on it.” Bit of green make-up flaked off her face as she stood and Firmus wondered just how this sort of thing had become part of his daily routine.


	7. going and going

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke heads off on an adventure. Piett gives a press conference. Boba gets paid twice to do what he was already doing.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” 

“you always have a bad feeling about things.”

“I do and I’m usually right. Come on? Doesn’t anyone think that the cave is a little sketchy. How does a boulder crumble like that. Not naturally. This smells either like a set up or a trap.”

“Aren’t those the same thing?” 

“No, they’re different. Luke, buddy, back me up here. We need to get off this rock and leave the temple of doom far far behind.” 

“It’s an abandoned temple.” 

“With Vader’s bootprints all over the front entrance! Come on, Luke. Don’t you think this is a little reckless.” 

“The force led me here, Han. I have to know why I was called here. Are you curious?” 

“About a menacing hole in the ground? No. No I am not. Kid! Princess, don’t ask me go down there. I can’t do it.” 

“Then don’t we’re here for answers, not complaining.” 

“It’s dangerous!” 

“So was the battle of Yavin.” 

“Fine! I’ll go! But I don’t like it.”

“Are you both done?” Luke stood from his inspection of the ground and glanced back at the bickering duo. “Vader was here, Han was right, but he’s gone again too. There are two boot pairs and four tracks. One was running back, the other wasn’t.” 

“Okay, what chased out the first person?” 

“Vader?”

“No.” Luke stared into the dark cavern. “Not Vader, something…someone else is down there.” 

“You’re not filling me with lots of confidence, kid.” 

“They’re dying.” Luke said quietly, his blue eyes nearly glowing, “We need to see them before they do. Han get your lights, we need to go.” 

“Are we bringing the princess?” 

“I am coming,” Leia snapped, picking up her backpack and setting her headlamp on. “Why?” 

“I’m just wondering why Luke didn’t give you snappy orders!”

“I value my face and the continued use of my hands.” Luke muttered, distracted, as he stepped into the cave. “Come one, Han, let’s go.” 

“Smart man,” Leia agreed ad Han rolled his eyes and ventured nervously into the cave behind Luke, “what do you think we’ll find down here?”

“I don’t.” Luke ventured on ahead, “do either of you sense anything?”

“Bad luck and trouble.” Han grumbled and Leia shrugged.

“I just feel…sad. There’s a sadness here. A deep one. I can tell that much.” 

“There’s someone down there. Don’t you feel that one?”

“Luke, I’m not force sensitive.” Leia reminded him and Luke frowned and then nodded.

“No, right. I’m sorry. I forgot. I just thought. Okay,” Luke gestured to the too smooth walls of the cave, “Um, Han?”

“I’m not force sensitive either, kid.” Han told him dryly and the blond shook his head. 

“Sorry, I think I’m getting some crossed wires somewhere.” His face scrunched up, “okay, lets head down.” 

“We’re all going to die.” Han said, “have I told you my bad feeling about this?” 

#$#$#$

“Press conference?”

“Yes, sir.” Noa waited as Piett moved from the various outfits set on mannequins in the room. “Press conference. It’s important to establish us as the victories of the political infighting before the real fighting begins. In the minds of the people you need to the Emperor. Declare victory from the start and only defend the title. It works well.” 

“Declare victory? My agents are still playing coy with other people who also wish to declare sovereignty. My previous commander went AWOL after murdering the previous Emperor and my best chance at successfully taking over the galaxy lay on the shoulders of…you.” 

“Not me, sir. You. I’m here to help. We’re here to help. Aphra, Jix, myself. We couldn’t, we couldn’t follow anyone who we didn’t think could do the job.” Noa stepped around a mannequin wearing a feathery outfit. “Jix, wouldn’t be here. I…I would have jumped ship.” 

“You didn’t.” 

“No, because I knew that his faith in you wasn’t unfounded. We were all loyal to Lord Vader. He took our skills and utilized them the way they needed to be used. He ignored the defects, the sarcasm, the weaknesses and helped us be better than ourselves and finding something bigger to support. Support, that’s what we are. We’re support to someone who can really do the job. You’re the person and I wouldn’t have agreed to be your Chief of Staff.”

“Ah, I do not want to make your validation speech have any less meaning, Noa, but you didn’t agree to be my Chief of Staff. You appointed yourself my Chief of Staff and I don’t remember having a choice.” 

“Oh, you’re right but you did ruin my validation speech. “You’re press conference is in two hours. Do not wear anything ostentacious, something sensible will work. …Please, sir.”

“Hmm. Very well.” 

“I’ve given you the answers to most of the questions. I wrote them out but you need to sound sincere. Also, don’t do anything that Lord Vader would do. Please.”

“Lord Vader once strangled a paparazzi.”

“Strangling paparazzi will be handled by any number of your bodyguards though we advise against it. It doesn’t look good on the news.” 

“So no paparazzi will be present.” 

“No, just journalists. Your press secretary will walk you through their interview styles. Most of them are…older journalists. The ones that went underground years before the Empire’s rise.” 

“And where did you excavate these people?” Piett asked as he admired the high collar and elegant gold embroidery along the edges and the simple pale silver cloak hooked over it.” There was a suspicious amount of silence. “Noa?” 

“Ah, they’re actually political prisoners. You’re going to pardon them.”

“I’m going to what?” The Emperor turned, staring at the unrepentant teenager across the room.

“None of them are violent crime offenders. Their crimes were their jobs. They angered very powerful people during their lives. This will not be an easy press conference.” 

“Ah, of course. When was I going to be informed of your decision to pardon a number of journalists?” He asked.

“When I handed you the pardon forms and told you that they only agreed to the conference if you pardoned them.”

Piett sighed deeply, “why did you not inform me of this before?”

“Because it is below your paygrade. That’s my job. I must do it. You need to trust me if you want everything to go well.” 

“I don’t know the rest of my staff yet, Noa.” 

“You will, after the press conference. I’ll bring the drink.”

“Drink?” Piett tilted his head. “Why?”

“It’s a press conference, you’re going to need it.”

#$#$#$

“I want you to watch something.” Wrenga Jixton leaned over the table with an ugly grin. 

“If I didn’t want to watch it I hardly think I have the ability to tell you no.” Captain Palleon said carefully as his eye focused on the fully loaded blaster also on the table. “You do have me tied up.”

“Yes, I do. That’s not the point.” Jix activated a small, hand-held holo unit. “The new Emperor is going to be having a press conference. He’d arrived at the Core worlds and is probably getting ready now. You need to see it.” 

“Why?” Palleon wondered when Thrawn would notice that he was gone. “Should I bother.” 

“I’m here to uh...sell for him. He needs support and loyalty from the best officers this galaxy has to offer.”

“Grand Admiral Thrawn.” 

“Won’t be as amendable.” Jixton grinned and coyly glanced over his shoulder. “Right, Grand Admiral.” 

“You didn’t ask.” Thrawn said patiently, emerging from the shadows. Palleon had long since lost the ability to be surprised by the dramatic commanders he’d had. He sighed and waited for the spy to kill him or both of them. 

“Numbers don’t lie as much as people, sir. I got a real number cruncher back there with four psych profiles that give us a pretty good idea of what you’re up to.”

“Why did you reveal that?” Palleon asked, “that defeats the purpose, spy.”

“Hmmm, I am intrigued as to the offer you’re planning for my captain. Though, I am sure your…number cruncher,” he delicately turned a page of flimsi over and over in his hands. “Is very intelligent. I would, on normal occasions, attempt a coup to seize the throne. Though, I do not want it.”

“Despite what they say, that doesn’t make you the ideal candidate for Emperorship.” 

“No.” Thrawn tilted his head to the side, “I am sure it does not. What would you have Palleon do? Kill me, exile me? What sort of betrayal would you have conceived for him?”

“Do you want to watch the press conference too?” Jix asked as the device began a countdown. “I think this will be important for all of us.” Jix’s dark grin was mirrored by the subtle smirk on the blue face looming over him. “

“Very well.” Thrawn gestured to the holo device which was now showing a very cheerful TV personality. 

“Good afternoon! I’m your host for today,” the woman beamed at them. “Menda! Today, we’ll be broadcasting the first ever press conference of Emperor Piett! Our political analysts today,” she waved to the two people beside her. “Ruwwaca,” the silver furred wookie waved at the holo camera, “and our very favorite news satirist, Jon!” An equally gray haired human waved. “Jon, Ruwwaca, thank you for joining us this afternoon.” 

“This is going to be the press conference of the century.” Jon said, leaning against the table and gesturing at the hovering image of bland faced Piett. “I think I’m going to have material for years to come.” 

{We are also going to be paying close attention to his policies, his answers, and the way he styles what little fur he has left.} 

“Anyway, we’re really going to be watching this conference closely. This is the first time we’ve had a proper press conference in…oh how long has it been?”

{Over eighty years.} Ruwwaca blinked at the sudden silence of the studio. {Were you only counting the Empire years?}

“Yes.” 

Ruwwaca gave a barking laugh and pressed an enormous paw on top of Jon’s head. {Humans have such short living memories. I guess that’s why you managed to lose your homeworld.} He barked a laugh. {Now, to the press conference!}

#$#$#

“Confidence is key.” Piett leaned away from the enormous woman adjusting his collar. “You need to be humble but royal at the same time. Do not be mocking or irritated. Keep your patience. These are some of the best journalists out there.” 

“Who are you?” Piett asked.

“I’m Captain Elle Mii. I’m your Press Secretary.” 

“We meet a week ago.”

“Of course.” There had been a deluge of information a week ago. A lot of information. “My apologies.” 

“Here,” a pick-up mic was attached to the collar and the horde of people wandering around all stepped back. “Last make-up check!” A handsome twi’lek fellow swept in with a brush and some more foundation. It fluttered over his face and he cringed. 

“Is he ready?” Noa asked, stepping around the wire and cameras. 

“I believe I am.” Piett said, glancing at the teenager holding his cards.

“You are a commander of a very large, very mutinous ship. Handle it like that.” 

“None of this is very helpful.” He said but nodded anyway. “I am ready.” 

“All right.” The room shifted away from him, creating a path to the entrance of the door he was supposed to be walking through. His security guards melted into the background. 

“We’re live in!” A hand pressed against his back, propelling him down the aisle. Piett nearly stumbled but caught himself. Setting his shoulder wide and staring forward with a firm gaze. “FIVE! FOUR!” Firmus emerged into the red carpeted hallway and moved down that last few steps to the podiumx set up in the center of the stage. It seemed like hundreds of cameras were one him, blinking red lights and flashing bulbs. Aliens and humans all stared at him with breathless anticipation. “THREE! TWO! ONE!” 

Piett kept his face firm and nodded generously at the crowd assembled. “Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, and those in between. I am Emperor Firmus Piett. I have come before you today to share the honesty concerns and to keep an open agenda with the worlds. In recent years, the peaceful, stable, and secure Empire promised to the galaxy by Emperor Palpatine has crumbled. If, in fact, it ever existed. Citizen rights have been trampled, ignored, and betrayed. Criminal empires, gluttonous corporations, and unregulated banks have made the galaxy a feeding ground. This is going to change.” He ignored the eyes on him, drawing up on the convictions and the desire for justice that had made him so successful at pirate hunting. “The usurpers who see fit to divide the galaxy for their own benefit, for their own profit will not be allowed to do so.” He nodded briskly and the press to the opportunity to leap to their feet. He nodded to an ancient twi’lek woman with a thick Ryl accent. 

“What is your stance on the slave trade? Including the slaves used to build the Death Star and the various Imperial complexes across the galaxy.”

“It will be abolished,” he told her, “rid of. The galaxy does not and should never rest on the backs of slaves or those who cannot defend themselves.”

“What of the sex trade?”

“Investigations have begun into several suspects. Those who have profited the most from unregulated sex work. In the interest of security, I cannot tell you who is being investigated or where the investigation is going?”

The woman stared a bit and nodded. The crowd surged again and Piett picked a graying human. “Sir, your claim to the throne is considered weak.” 

“It is not.” 

“If the other usurpers, like Director Isard and the various Grand Moffs attempt to take it, how will you defend your self-claimed title?” 

Piett nodded and spoke. The press conference lasted for almost three hours, question after question was lobbed at him. All of the difficult and all of them previously prepared for. Except for a question from a woman in pink, holding her hand up as the time slot dwindled to a close. 

“Yes?” 

“Sir, you’ve spoken today about revising the damage done by the previous emperor and the republic. Not to mention proper pardons and reduced prison sentences for those unjustly tried and those not given a trial at all.” This hadn’t been on the questions list. Piett blinked as the woman continued. “What does your government plan to do with members of the Rebel Alliance, in fact, with the Rebel Alliance at all? Would you make peace with them? You’ve spoken a lot about unifying the galaxy but what about those who don’t want to unify the galaxy? What about the systems that are sick of overbearing galactic governments?” He stared and the woman stared back, her expression was firm. 

“I do not know.” Dead silence followed. “This is a very difficult question, one that divides every person I have discussed it with. Though, a war would only further divide the galaxy and destroy us. We do need, indeed, I do not think the galaxy as we know it could survive another galactic war.” 

“I disagree.” Noa whispered in his ear, he glanced to the side to see the teenager waving. 

“At first opportunity, I will seek out peace with the Rebel Alliance,” He tried hard not to physically react to the unpleasant opportunity. “And restore balance to the galaxy.”

#$#$#$

“That had to be the most ambitious speech I’ve ever seen a politician give.” Jon’s eyebrows were raised and his face stiff. “That, guys. You heard that. Restore balance to the galaxy! Okay, fine. I might believe it but what about getting rid of the slave trade! He wants to do that too! Get rid of it! Do you know…that would be impossible. You’d need a living force of nature to burn the slave trade down! You’d need, impossible…everything! I mean, pal. You’re all small and worried and gray and kind of unthreatening but…you’ve got impossible dreams. “

{I disagree.} Ruwacca barked. {He may yet prove himself. Though, trying to rid the political offices of anyone who has served with both the Republic and the Empire will be hard.}

“I know! Plus, Ru, you heard that he wants to…this guy has impossible dreams. Impossible. The feuding Grand Moff and Admirals, the rebels? I mean. Ru, work with me here.” 

{Piett was honest when he did not know the answer. That is something I have not seen in many centuries. Many pretend to know the answer.}

“I guess,” visibly shaken and confused, Jon stared at the holo cams trained on him. “Look, Emperor Piett, we may have made a few jokes about your height and your tiny figure when you stand next to the previous heir to the Empire but look.” He glanced to the sides of the studio at the equally shocked people standing around. “I’m willing to give you a shot. I am. I really am. In this sink hole of a galaxy I think you’ve got the chance. I mean, sure you’re a member of the military industrial complex and taking the reins of a drugged up, crazed rancor on a spice high. So…” Jon shrugged and Ruwacca barked in agreement. “Good luck.”

 

#$#$#

“I had not presumed Piett to be a person a such extreme arrogance.” Thrawn said as the holo-device died in Wrenga’s hand. “To declare such victory from the start.” 

“That really depends on where you stand. If you’re standing at the podium where people have put your or if you’re out here,” he gestured to the air around them, “already pushed out of the spotlight. Now. I know he might have spewed some very over the top jizz about finally brining real peace through positive action and lots of direct action.” 

“You don’t want me to be on the opposite side?” Thrawn surmised, “I am a threat to him. “

“Eh, I wouldn’t go that far.” 

“Fortunately,” Thrawn clasped his hands behind his back and nodded to Palleon, “I seek what he seeks. A unified galaxy.” 

“Yep.”

“Though, I am sure we can discuss what he intends to do with the rebel alliance at a later date.” 

“Depends on what you want to offer him. From what I can tell, you’ve only got the superficial support of your men,” he nodded to Palleon who had the grace to not roll his eyes. “Come on, be real.”

“I do have support and the most accurate maps of the Outer Rim, plus the use of the best ships and weapons from my homeworld.”

“Hmph, tell me…Thrawn.” Jix wiggled the holo-device between his hands, “you want to support our new Emperor, that’s fine but we want proof of it.” Thrawn’s pink eyes narrowed dangerously. “I’ll take him back with me,” Wrenga waved at Palleon who made a noise of irritation. “Pal? What do you think. Let Thrawn prove it?” 

“Hmm,” Thrawn nodded, “I want him back.” 

“Hmm, I’ll see what the boss man says.” 

“If I may interject,” Palleon said archly, annoyed at both of them. Wrenga waited with deliberate insolence and Thrawn raised a blue-black eyebrow. “I have no desire to be used as a pawn or a hostage. I have and will continue to serve the Empire with unwavering loyalty but I will not suffer this…this...indignity of being a pawn! There is no need to use me as a pawn for the Grand Admiral to prove his loyalty.”

“There is, actually, he likes you.” Wrenga shrugged, “you can serve closer to the Emperor but he’s getting a new captain.” 

“I am sure that one will not be on par with you, Captain.” Thrawn nodded. 

“Don’t think we’re aware that you’re too hardhearted to actually care for the captain but I guess killing him would make a nice point.” 

“This gesture is pointless.” Thrawn agreed, “Emperor Piett wouldn’t have a fine captain such as Palleion executed simply to make a point. Leave him, I will make the necessary grand gesture of loyalty later.”

“Hmmm, no dice. Give if now. Something I know you value. That Alderanni moss painting you’ve got stored in your office. That’s worth enough to you.” Now, Thrawn’s expression did turn dangerous and Palleon wondered at the fact that his value was apparently less than a painting made of dirt. “You can go to war and lose badly or you can sign up, right now. Your choice, but be clear, I have the kill-switch for this ship.” 

“Liar,” the alien pronounced and the rough human shrugged. 

“If you’re sure. I’m going on my way.” Jixton made it to the door before the Grand Admiral let out a frustrated sigh.

“It will take some time to prepare the painting for transport.”

“Great! I can wait!” Jixton smiled and then shrugged when Palleon gave a pointed look at his bindings. “See ya!” 

“I do not like that man,” Palleon said, annoyed as Thrawn, finishing up his conversation with his own aides; finally bent down to untie him. “Sir.” 

“Do not be offended,” Thrawn told him as the nimble fingers began untying the precise knots. “I hold the value of that moss painting above my own life as well.” 

“Well,” the captain swallowed down his sarcastic rebuttal, “thank you then. Though, why even bother with a…tribute of sorts.” 

“Emperor Piett,” he had certainly adopted the phrase easily, “is a capable and intelligent man. He was chosen by some of Lord Vader’s handpicked agents and personally chosen companions. Not General Veers, though he would be an equal choice, but Piett.” Palleon rubbed his wrists and watch the Grand Admiral step away and offer a hand to him. “What picked by those who served Lord Vader the closest. Why?”

“Perhaps he was Vader’s preferred man.” 

“That would seem the most likely and it probably is but…I am fully aware of who Lord Vader surrounded himself with. Which spies and rouge archeologist he favored. Presumably, at the helm of this Emperor Piett operation is a very intelligent young woman with the capability of total galactic domination.” 

“Sir?” Palleon felt his mouth run dry. 

“Oh, I doubt she is aware of her skill or even to the extent at which they could be used. Though, she does have the capabilities far beyond even the captains of our Navy and Army. One of the reasons, I am sure, that Lord Vader did not execute her nor dispose of her.”

#$#$#4

Boba Fett stepped into the slightly cooler throne room of Jabba’s Palace, identifying various scum and spies around the room before settling on Jabba the Hutt.

“BOBA!” The hutt boomed, “COME! COME!” Grimacing, Fett stormed across the room and stared up at the gangster. “How have you been, my old friend?”

“I was on another job.” Fett almost lied. He was already headed here for Piett’s information mining operation. 

“Bah, I will pay you twice what they want.” That was a lot of money. A whole lot of it. Too bad Noa had already gotten him to sign the contract. 

“Depends on what you want.” 

“I have a refugee on Tatooine I want watched. You know him.” Fett remained quiet. “Lord Vader has come to my world. He’s fleeing from those who want him dead. I would offer him refuge but he and I do not like each other.” 

“What’s the point?” 

“I want him watched and his motivation uncovered. He cannot be here simply to grow old.” He wasn’t, as far as Fett knew. “This will be a small operation. You can handle it, right?”

“Where is he?”

“Fortuna will give you the details,” the hutt waved him off, “for now,” Fett glanced to the side where a woman was standing. It was a familiar green twi’lek and Fett shook his head. 

“I don’t want money this time.” He nodded to the twi’lek and Jabba began to laugh. 

“Finally! Something to your tastes. Ah, fine,” he gestured to the miserable looking woman and continued to laugh as Fett led her out of the throne room and into one of the secluded sections of the palace. There, he set a disruptor on the table and checked for bugs before he removed his helmet. 

“I am Boba Fett.” 

“I know.” Oola said, “what do you want?” 

“Information.” Oola stared curiously at him and glanced from the bed and back. “I’m not interested in you. I only want information, an established contact.”

“You have never expressed interest in the politics of Jabba’s court.” 

“I know.” 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Not me. I’ll come back later with the list of questions.” Boba stared back at the door. “I need to go.” 

“You can’t.” Oola stared at him with a sad gaze, “this isn’t enough time. I am good, not that good.” 

“Then what? I don’t…like to touch.” 

“Fine,” a minute later Boba found himself laying, fully armored, on the bed. He stared up at the ceiling and glanced over at a sleeping Oola. He didn’t dare shift for fear of waking her up. He settled in to take a quick nap as well.


	8. Uncle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boba Fett finds out something interesting. Luke and Leia do too.

Kitster pulled himself to his feet carefully joined Vihaan at the small table in the middle of the room. His strength was almost back but he was still easily tired. 

“How did it go?” 

“Well enough. They are safe for now. I am sure the Hutt has received message of my appearance. What he intends to do, I do not know. He could easily bomb us from the skies if he wanted to.”

“I have lived long enough at the mercy of others. I will not do so any longer. I am sure you will protect us.” Kitster set a hand on Vihaan’s, carefully covering the leather wrapped appendage, “what are you working on?” 

“Another scanner.” 

“Another?”

“I have made three. They must be built better each time. I salvaged many parts from the warehouse.” 

“That is good?”

“It will be. I left one with the resident doctor. She will be removing theirs. Tomorrow I will return with other supplies they might need.”

“Vihaan, I know.” Kitster looked up at the death head mask and sighed, “would you like to hear a story?” His brother stilled and looked away. The rasping hiss of his machinery was the only noise for several minutes. 

“Which story?” He asked and Kitster tapped the back of his brother’s hand. 

“Which one do you want to hear?”

“I do not remember any of them.” 

“Then I will start with the first story. The first one we all learned as children.” 

“That will suffice.” Vihaan shifted awkwardly. “Where does it begin?”

“With the core of our being. With a history so long lost it is nothing now.” Vihaan continued to work as Kitster spoke.

#$#$#

Boba Fett could hear a voice. It was soft but strong and it was steady, carrying through the simple door. The hovel that Vader was reported to be in was correct, he could hear the hissing rasp of the respirator too. 

Still. He didn’t open the door and he didn’t kick it down. Fett raised a hand and knocked. 

The voice stilled. The respirator did not. 

The door opened and Fett removed his helmet politely. The man standing in front of him was average height, dark skin, dark eyes with bags beneath them and rimmed in red, he looked tired but awake. 

“Excuse me,” Boba said, “I need to speak with the man inside this…house.” 

“I see.” The man didn’t move, his eyes skipped up and down Boba’s armor. “Excuse me.” He shut the door and there was a quiet conversation. The door opened again and the man stepped to the side. “Come in.” 

“Thank you.” Fett nodded to him and entered the hovel. Only long practice kept him from gaping or laughing. 

Vader, Darth Vader was sitting cross legged at a rickety table with his enormous hands buried in the spare parts that looked ancient. His cape was ragged and he had sand in the creases of his armor, he looked a bit dusty and worn. 

“Sir.” 

“What does the Hutt want with me, Fett?” Vader demanded and Fett stared a bit as the other man sat beside Vader and patted his arm with brotherly affection. He had never seen someone so close to Vader before in his life. 

“He wants to know why you’re here.”

“What does he think I am here for?” 

“He thinks you’re a refugee; hiding from the Empire.” 

“Allow him to think that.” Vader paused in his work on the mechanical innards of whatever cannablized droid he had and turned. Finally, he nodded to the spot across from the table. “Sit.” He ordered and Fett dropped onto the spot. Vader seemed to consider him. 

“Why are you here?”

“I’m on assignment from the Emperor.” The other man frowned in confusion and Fett hazarded to guess that Vader was also confused. “Emperor Piett.”

“Piett?” 

“Who is Piett?” 

“My captain.” 

“No so captain anymore. He just held a press conference. Discussed policy and the future of a couple of hours with the whole galaxy. Popular in the mid-rim and almost in the Core. He’s already got the Imperial Center.”

“What tricks is Noa up to?” Vader demanded and Fett paused. 

“Who is Noa?” The other man asked, this time frustrated. Vader lurched to his feet and paced the tiny length of the room. “Brother?” Fett’s eyebrows nearly crawled off his face. 

“This is ridiculous.” Vader snarled and Fett was further astonished when Vader brother smacked at a passing limb. 

 

“What did you think was going to happen when you murdered the Emperor of the known galaxy? Hmm? Someone usually steps in to fill the power vacuum.”

“Not Piett!” Vader exclaimed.

“I don’t even know who these people are!” 

“Piett is an officer, a small nervous one. Competent…but Emperor?” 

“Then who is Noa?” 

“An intelligent, ambitious and very stupid child!” Fett bit his lip and waited for Vader to calm down. “A girl with more brains than sense. Tell me,” he whirled on Fett. Boba leaned back. “Has Piett taken any control of the foolish brat or is he simply being led about on a string?”

“He took Aphra to task after she murdered most of his competition. Wasn’t worried much about the murders, more about what they looked like on the Net. She’s grounded and on a grunt assignment. I don’t think he’ll let Noa walk all over him.”

“Noa has a forceful personality, Peitt is…timid.”

“Not as timid as you think. He’s already dealing with Thrawn and the other conspirators. He’s crowned himself Emperor already. All that’s left is the bill.” 

“This is not the time for.” 

“What do you care?” Boba asked and Vader jerked around. “You left.” Vader stared down at him. “You murdered the Emperor. You killed him off and you left! You’re not part of that anymore. You’re not the Supreme Commander, you’re not the Emperor.” 

“Watch yourself, Fett.” 

“No,” Boba shook his head, “I’m here for Noa and Piett, not for you. You don’t pay me so I don’t care. Even if Piett is timid, he’s got our backing. He’s got the teams you made. We believe in him because you did.” 

“I?”

“You made him your captain and Noa would have never allowed Aphra to make the first proposal if she didn’t think he wasn’t fit for the job. I’m not taking back any word that you don’t have full faith in him.” 

“I do not care.” Vader retorted and Boba unbent enough to roll his eyes.

“Whatever.” 

“Brother, please. He’s right, you’re not there anymore. You aren’t even Vader anymore. You’re free! Finally! Don’t worry about them.” 

“This is a matter of concern.” Vader snarled. Fett wondered what the brother meant. 

“Not for you,” the brother said and he snagged Vader’s hand. Though Vader clearly had the strength to yank himself loose, he didn’t. Reluctantly, he followed his brother guidance and sat back down. “Not any more, you’re free from those fears. What you need to work on and worry about is here. With me.” 

Fett lowered his eyes and willed himself deaf. He spent a moment playing a wonderful game of mental chess with himself and only looked up when the table rattled. 

“FETT!” 

“Yes?” 

“How long will you be out here?” 

“As long as you are. Noa doesn’t know where you are. She doesn’t care. Jabba’s the one who wanted me out here.” 

“You have a place in his court?” 

“Yes.”

“We may have some use for that.” Vader said.

“What are you doing here?” 

“To kill the Hutt and to free the slaves.” The man said with a single trace of visible irony. 

“Err.” Boba winced and shrugged, “I can help. There’s someone in the court, a dancer, who could also help.” Vader stood again and left through the back, vanishing out of sight in just a moment. “Where’d he go?” 

“To think? To sulk?” The man sighed, “I don’t know sometimes.” 

“Right.” Fett shifted a bit. He didn’t know if he needed to leave or to go and he didn’t want to bother anyone. Vader was volatile most days anyway. “Ah, who are you?” 

“Me? I am Kitster,” the man smiled faintly, “Vihaan’s brother.” 

“Vihaan?”

“You didn’t think his name was Vader, did you?” 

“I always thought it was Anakin.” 

“He is not Anakin.” Kitster told him with such authority that Boba immediately nodded. “I don’t know when he’ll be back. Do you have anything else to tell him?”

“No,” he shook his head and paused. “Here,” he handed over a comm unit. “In case of emergencies. I’m going back to the palace and stuff. Why…um...do you…do you want me to help?” 

“I have been recovering from being ill. My brother is the one with the plan, I am not.” He nodded patiently, “you are confused about what to do here.” 

“Yes.” Boba stood too, “I’m going to leave.” 

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“Yes.” 

“Alright then,” he nodded and pointed, “you know where the door is.” Fett extacted himself as quickly as possible. Out the door, he paused and turned to walk around the houses all pressed against each other. As soon as he saw an alley, he bolted down it and emerged into a dusty plaza. Vader…Vihaan? Was sitting on the back steps of his hovel. His ankles were crossed and his hands were resting on his knees and his mask was angled toward the distant sky.

“You do not need to hide, Fett.” Vader said and Fett stepped closer. There was silence for a while and the mask turned back to him. If it was possible for Vader to be sad, he was obvious he was sad. “He is correct, of course.” 

“Your brother?’

“He often is.” There was a harsh crackling from the mask and Fett wondered if the man was scoffing or laughing. “It is no longer my concern.” 

“It could be. Depending on who’s in charge depends on how favorably your work will be met. Piett’s declared himself emperor and holding what he can. Rebel’s are grabbing as much as possible, planets that can be attacked and held easily or at least, not as hard as before. There’s a sort of standstill as Piett goes for the Empire and the Rebels aren’t sure if they’re going to be attacked. Personally, Noa’s going to focus on keeping the empire splintering first.” 

“Piett must keep a leash on Noa, given the opportunity she will careen off into a scheme of un-checked galactic domination.” 

“You kept her.” 

“She was too intelligent to kill for simple disrespect. I had ways to handle her.” 

“I have a contact in Jabba’s palace. A dancer named Oola, she’ll be useful for whatever you’re doing.” 

“Do you have the time to help me and to keep your assignment with Noa?”

“I’ll manage. I’ve got intel gathering to do under the pretense of hunting.” 

“Hmmm.” 

Boba swallowed, “is he really your brother?” 

“Yes.” 

“Guess you got all the height.” 

“Take your leave, Fett, before it becomes impossible for you to do so.” 

“Guess I’m telling the slug you haven’t lost your touch.” With a final nod, Fett made his way back to his speeder and to Jabba’s palace. 

Vihaan watched him leave and sighed to himself. Of course, Noa had done what she’d done. She was too intelligent by half and far too well versed in the art of war. 

“It is not my concern,” he said quietly, “my concern is with my people.” He watched the other back doors of the plaza, some lights still flickering in the slanted windows and others. A hundred people were in these houses, more across the city and still more across the planet. 

His people. As clear and known to him as the dusty and muck he’d grown up. Their pain and humiliation was shared across the years he’d masqueraded as a free being. He knew them all and what they suffered and he felt the eternal pain of what they’d been. 

Slaves. 

He angled his head up to look at the distant stars and wondered if he’d ever left Tatooine behind. There was a noise from behind him and Kitster joined him a moment later. 

“You should be asleep.” 

“I am not a delicate glass ornament, Vihaan. I think you’re forgetting what I’ve survived until this point.” 

“I haven’t forgotten,” he turned to Kister, “I simply do not want you to have to suffer more because of me. 

“Oh, thank you.” Kitster joined him on the stairs. “We’ve got.” 

“What are you two doing here?” They turned to spot a small twi’lek by the stairs, her bright eyes focused on them. 

 

“You,” Vihaan said with great authority, “should be in a bed.” 

“I can’t sleep.” She said, “I can’t ever sleep. I heard you talking. Can you sleep?” 

“No.” Kitster said and she hopped onto the stairs to join them. “What are you doing?” 

“Listening, I can’t sleep. What were you doing?” 

“I was busy,” Vihaan crossed his arms and peered down at her.

“What were you doing?” Kitster blinked.

“I was telling him our stories.” 

“Why? Did you forget the stories? How do you forget the stories? I don’t even think it’s possible to forget them. I know them. I know them all.” Her head tilted to the side and whispered, “did you masters make you forget?” 

“Yes, they did.” Vihaan forced the words out with great reluctance and jolted when the girl threw her arms around his stomach. 

“I can help you remember!” She said, “I know them all! I know the words! I know all of them!” 

“Little one.” 

“That is a great idea.” Kitster said in agreement and Vihaan shot him an ugly glare. “Why don’t you?” 

 

“No.”

“Yes! I know them all and if you need to learn everything again I can help! I’m really good with words!” 

“Child.”

“Please,” she pouted at him, widening her eyes and Vihaan sighed and gestured for her to start. “Goody. Okay. So, in the beginning.” She repeated the phrase in his first language and waited for him to repeat them. When he did, she said the next sentence. 

#$#$3

Luke shrugged the hood off his head and stared down at the village sitting at the bottom of the volcano. The stylized picture of the dragon was what caught his attention, as well as the style of the buildings. 

“What’s wrong?” Han asked, coming up to stop beside Luke and whistling at the deep chasm beneath him. “That’s a long way down.” 

“I recognize that dragon.” Luke said quietly, tracing the outline of the beast with a finger in the air. “The shape, the style. This all…familiar.” 

“You’ve never been here before.” Leia stopped on this other side and she squinted at the dragon across the roofs, “the winds must keep the ash and dust from falling onto the roofs. Volcano ash is too heavy to be supported by such simple structures.” 

“That’s not. Leia, do you recognize this?” Luke’s expression was distant. 

“No, I don’t…should I?” 

“I don’t know?” 

“Well,” Han leaned away from the cliff and wandered around to the set of stairs that were imprinted with four tracks of two pairs of boots, “Vader and whoever he was with went down and back up, no telling what we’re going to find down there.” 

“No.” Luke shook his head and moved to the stairs, “we need to go down.” 

“Why?” 

“There is something down here.” Luke moved down the stairs and then looked back at them, “come on.” 

“Are you alright?” Leia asked, following anyway.

“No, I just. I recognize this place but I don’t recognize it. I just…this is too close to something I grew up with for this to make any sense.” 

“What?”

“I can’t tell you.” 

“Seriously, you’re going mysterious Jedi on us? Now? We’re balls deep in a volcano and you’re going to be cryptic.” 

“I’m not being cryptic.” Luke retorted and Han yelped as Leia smacked the back of his head. “I…this secret isn’t mine to tell.” 

“Great, hey! Don’t hit me! You’ll damage my good looks!”

“As if. Throwing you off this staircase would be an improvement on your looks, Captain Solo.” 

“Sheesh, look Princess, I’m not.” 

“Guys! Be quiet!” Luke focused on the town below and glared back at them. They both leaned back as his blue eyes near glowed in the dim light of the entombed city. “This is not a place for petty bickering. This is…a final resting place. Leave it to its peace.” 

“Fine.” Han skulked on behind him and grumbled as Leia gracefully accepted Luke’s rebuke. 

“Do you know what this place is?” She asked, her voice soft and Luke shook his head again. 

“The specifics, no. But…twin suns and twin moons, plus…the kryat.” 

“Kryat stones are worth a lot of money.” 

“HAN!” Leia and Luke hissed at him and he grumbled some more. He nearly slipped a second later as an unexpected gust of wind nearly buffeted him from the stairs. “HAN!” 

“I’m fine!” He retorted, holding himself closer to the wall and breathing heavily. “Okay, nearly fell to my death but I’m okay.” 

“Keep closer to the wall,” Leia ordered, her grip on his shoulder nearly painful. He smiled at her nearly worried gaze but had just enough grace not to tease her about it.

“Come on.” 

The decent took a shorter while than the hike down the mountain. Luke, Leia, and Han all landed in the constantly swirling ash and dust with heavy thumps as the jumped the last few steps. Their silence was near complete as they wandered into the dead village, eyes flickering to find any sort of movement that wasn’t from the ages of consequences of emptiness. 

Han slipped his hand into Leia’s, uncommonly nervous. She squeezed his hands and said nothing. He blinked and jerked to a halt as he saw somebody. 

It was another man. Tall, taller than he was and dressed in black clothes. He looked like a sith but his eyes…Han recognized those eyes. They were Leia’s. His ears were big, his nose crooked, a scar carved up part of his face, and he carried a flickering red lightstaber.

“Leia.” He swallowed as the stranger(?) stalked closer. “LEIA!”

“I see him.” She whispered and her whole body was frozen in terrified shock. “Who?”

“Mother,” in contrast to his hulking walking and the defiant set of his shoulders, “Father.” His voice was small, broken, almost begging. “He has me.” 

“Who has you?” Leia demanded, her grip on Han loosened and fell away. The man vanished and she was staring instead at an unfamiliar woman. She was tall as well, with bright blue eyes and a weather-beaten face. Her plain homespun dress was blue and gray. 

“Leia,” the woman said, voice soft but steady all the same. “You are so brave. I am so proud of you.” 

“I don’t know who you are.” Leia muttered, she groped around for Han. “I don’t know who any of you are.” 

Unbeknownst to her, Han was still staring at the man in black. The man had fallen to his knees, holding himself and crying. 

“I don’t know how to get out!” The man cried and Han glanced around to see his partners gone. “I don’t! Help me! Please!” 

“Get out where?” Han asked, “how can I help you?”

“You never understood,” the man buried his head in his hands, almost collapsing into the ash and dust, “how could you? I’m going to die here.” 

“You don’t have to!” Han shouted, his fear surging to nearly unbearable levels. “Get up! Get out! RUN!” 

Luke’s didn’t see either the man or the woman. All he could see what the distant out-line of a building engulfed in flames. Screams from every direction assaulted his ears. He stared at the scene, horrified and immobile. 

Something slammed into his stomach and he was weightless for a moment and the next thing he knew was sputtering up water. 

“KRIFF!” He lurched his feet, dripping wet and crying. He was no longer in the village. Chest still heaving from suppressed sobs, he whirled around to find Han and Leia all clambering out of the water. Luke looked back to see an impressive waterfall feeding the pool they were in. “What?” 

The room they were in was expansive, enormous and almost the size of a star destroyer. Green moss and glowing algae covered a number of the rocks. He admired the scene until a hot rush of air ruffled his head in way that felt and sounded a lot like breathing. Nervously, he turned his heel and then looked up. 

“Oh.” He sat back down in the water and stared up. 

“Hello, little one.” The dragon looked down on him with something resembling affection. He heardHan and Leia both swear. 

“I knew I recognized you.” Luke breathed out, almost so quietly he wasn’t sure himself that he’d spoken. 

“You haven’t forgotten then?” The dragon settled onto the bank beside the pool, a little smugly. 

“No.” 

“So Vader really was taken by a dragon.” Han stage-whispered to Leia. She elbowed him in the stomach. 

“What did I just see?” Luke asked, his reached up to brush the tears off his face. “What was that? Why were…why was it burning?” 

“Ah, your visions.” There was an uncomfortable silence behind him. The dragon snorted a bit. “Your power is great, little one, enough to be trapped by the echoing threads of future possibilities. My last visitor had a companion with him that was so blind it was nearly a joke. She pulled him from his vision, alas, you were not capable. Thus, I dumped you into my pool. Apologies for the inconvenience.” 

“I am not seeing visions, toothy guy!” Han protested, sloshing his way out of the water and wringing it angrily from his clothes and hair. “No! I am not seeing visions! No. NO! This is not happening. I was hallucinating! No visions. I must have had some bad spice.” 

“HAN!” Luke hissed and the smuggler glared at him. “You’re being disrespectful.” 

“I take no offense,” the dragon said, “I find your willful denial amusing. It is clear you will take some convincing.” 

“No!” 

“HAN!” Luke yelped and he shook his head. “What…but what was it?” 

“Possibilities. A possibility.” The dragon told him, “the ones that could happen, the ones that didn’t, the one that did.” 

“I don’t know.” Luke began and then stopped. “You’re the Great One’s sibling, aren’t you?”

“Great One? Her name doesn’t translate well into this language. But, yes. My sister is known to your people.”

“You worship a dragon?” Han asked and Leia gasped as Luke whirled around, furious. 

“SHUT UP!” 

“No matter.” Han blinked and then crumbled to the gravel. Leia sighed in annoyance Luke’s anger simmered low. “He will not awake until our conversation is complete, nephew, niece.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Niece and nephew.” The dragon snorted out a hot breath. “I do not know your names. It is all I have to identify you as.” 

“I don’t.” Luke fumbled for words. “Um, I’m flattered but I’m not your nephew.” 

“Ah, yes, you are. You are both my family. Children to my youngest brother. He certainly has much to deal with but I am sure he wants to speak to both of you.” 

“My father was Anakin Skywalker!” Luke yelped. Leia didn’t seem capable to speech.

“Anakin Skywalker. Son of the Suns, direct child of the living force. Protector and Guardian of the secrets of his sister. Son of Shmi Skywalker. Step-brother to Owen Lars and Beru Lars. Step-son of Cliegg Lars. Father of Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa. Husband to Padme Amidala. Leia made a choking gasp and Luke swallowed heavily. “The truth is, nephew, all of that. It is the reality. He has many more titles but none so…friendly as those.” 

“I.” Luke glanced to Leia. She stared at him. 

“We’re siblings?” 

“I guess.” He breathed and Leia stood perfectly still before launching herself across the empty space between them and yanked him into a crushing hug. “HEY!” He seized her around the waist as soon as he could and whirled her around. “I’ve got a sister!” 

“I’ve got a brother!” Leia laughed, her face lighting up and her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’ve got a brother!” 

“I’ve got a sister!” Luke whirled around again and crushed her close, almost crying again as something slid in to its proper place. His whole body sang with excitement and he heard the dragon chuckle. 

“Ah, a sibling claiming. Haven’t felt a proper one of those in years. Only those sickening master/Padawan bonds. “

“A what?” Luke pulled away from his sister and glanced up. “What’s a master/ Padawan bond?”

“Just as well you don’t know. It would not be proper for your heritage to be ruined by such manipulations. Either of you. I sense you are both clear of them, which is good.” 

“I don’t know what’s going on. I just. Our visions. What were they?” 

“As I said, niece, they were simply possibilities. Past and present and the future. They find…refuge in a home such as mine.” 

“Then…we…were following something. A beacon, I think.” 

“Yes. I am waiting to speak to a few more force users before I die.” 

“You’re dying?” 

“You can’t tell?” 

“No.” 

“Well, I am.” The dragon settled more comfortable on the gravel. “You both seem very powerful and very untrained.” 

“Yeah, we were…I guess we were separated at birth.” Luke held Leia’s hand carefully and she smiled sadly. “Hmm, I can’t believe I’ve got a sister.” 

“Yes, that is lovely but you are both going to be very busy. First, I sense that a great shroud has been lifted from the galaxy.”

“Vader killed the Emperor,” Luke supplied and the dragon snorted. 

“That would do it. Hmm.” The dragon looked off to the sky and then down at Luke and Leia. “Twins. How very fitting.”

“Your sister, she’s on Tatooine. Is she still there?” 

“Oh, yes. My sister is still alive but only just. Her…essence is bound down and enslaved with all of her people and those who have been adopted into it. I…am fading as my own people were long since wiped from history.” 

“How do I help her.” Luke asked and Leia started as he descended into a language she didn’t recognize. They both argued for a while in the same language until Luke threw up his hands and began shouting. Her ‘uncle’ (?) didn’t raise his voice but he did jerk his head sharply to the side once Luke jabbed a hand his direction. 

“HEY!” She shouted and they both turned, “what is going on?” 

“Your brother is being foolish.” The dragon grumbled.

“She needs help!” Luke shouted, “why can’t I help?” 

“You have other things to focus on.” Their uncle replied, “first, the historical heritage of all force users that have been erased from history.” 

“Like yours?”

“Yes. They need to be brought back into the light. You, a proclaimed Jedi knight, it is only right that you heal the wounds they wrought eons ago. In the move for ideological purity and self-defined balance in the force they eradicated much of the galaxies history.” 

“You want us to go on a archeological treasure hunt.” 

“Not quite but also yes.” He blinked at Leia and Luke who both shrugged. 

“What about the rebellion?” Leia asked, “we’re AWOL right now.” 

“I don’t know.” Luke sat back down in the water and set his head in his hands. “We’re so far away from them. We’ve got so much left to do and…force, what are we going to do?” 

“You do not have to take up the quest.” He told them patiently, “you may leave and go back to your rebellion. You may go to Tatooine to free my sister. Though, that job is being handled. Or you may stay here and die with me in due time.” 

“Why did you want us here?” Leia asked and the dragon blinked slowly. 

“You both needed to know that an alternative was available. After all, who would know more about a vanishing culture than you, niece.” Leia froze and looked away, glowering.

“We’ll go.” Luke said and Leia frowned at him. “Leia, the stories of my childhood are true! My grandmother was right! The living sand, the screams of the ancients, the lost oceans, all of it was true! There has to be something for us to find. We can find it!” 

“What about the rebellion?”

“We’ll…I’m not sure.” 

“We…go anyway.” Leia stood up and look back at her draconian uncle. “Where do we start.” 

“Here, of course. I am…the beginning of this volcano. I built it, I emptied, and I made it into my home.” He sighed deeply and seemed to droop. “The recovery must start somewhere.” 

“The recovery.” Luke stood up straight and nodded. His terror was clear. “We’ll do it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I wanted Vader to get dragged away by a dragon and it sort of grew from there. Am sick so it might not be all the coherent.


End file.
